


Call it a Woman's Intuition

by AbhorrentGodliness



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Aftercare, Alexithymia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Soldiers, Comedy, Daddy Kink, Depression, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guilt, Heavy Angst, I only do necessary tagging bc too many tags, Intimacy, Jealousy, Mentions of Abortion, Misogyny, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, most tags are in alphabetical order, there's a lot of smut ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2020-06-15 14:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 83
Words: 331,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19618102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbhorrentGodliness/pseuds/AbhorrentGodliness
Summary: The gate rose in front of her and she took a deep inhale before stepping under it and onto the circular platform, unsure if she was truly ready for it to take her to the surface; she had no idea what to expect, after all.It closed again with a loudclankand the platform below her jolted, turning her stomach; but whether that was from the actual movement, the memory of her first time riding it down into the vault, or from the anxiety of seeing what might have become of the world after the bombs, she wasn’t sure.Enjoy your return to the surface and thank you for choosing Vault-Tec.





	1. Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is currently being rewritten. There shouldn't be any changes that are too drastic, but each chapter will be redone to some extent. When a chapter is finished, there will be a chapter note at the beginning stating that it has been rewritten with the date. Please be aware there may be some inconsistencies throughout the story until every chapter is finished being rewritten. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me on discord (my info is in my profile) or leave a comment.
> 
> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 11, 2020

_Critical failure in cryogenic array._

Nora gasped sharply, the feeling of water in her lungs forcing out a rough cough that originated deep in her chest as if she hadn’t breathed in centuries. She slumped forward and her arms extended so her hands landed flat on the glass of the cryopod door, fingers curling against it and leaving streaks in the thin layer of fog that coated its surface. The door released a sudden hissing noise before opening, no longer holding her weight against it and causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground with a heavy _thud;_ but with her arms already out, she caught herself on her hands and knees, though it sent a shock of pain that began in her wrists and went straight up her forearms, coaxing a hissing inhale between her teeth.

_All vault residents must vacate immediately._

The only thing that actually vacated, however, was another deep cough from her chest, though she was no closer to feeling like she could breathe normally. Gasping for air, Nora’s fingernails dug into the ground beneath her, the keratin scratching against concrete within the puddle of water that her fingertips were submerged in. The ground and water were likely cold, but after coming out of an icebox, she didn’t feel a thing.

Where was she? Where the fuck was she?

Cryopods lined each side of the hall but none of them were open except the one that had held her hostage only moments ago. Puddles of water covered large portions of the floor, seemingly originating from the pods, and it was only then she realized that she, herself, had landed in a puddle.

With furrowed brows, the vault dweller slowly got to her feet, being careful not to slip in the water that would likely send her tumbling right back down. Her legs were wobbling enough to make her second guess standing right away, but after briefly steadying herself with her palms on her knees, she was soon upright. But as she stood, blue eyes were drifting up from the bottom of the cryopod directly in front of her—across the aisle from her own—and slowly trailing upward until they reached the glass and were met by an all-too-familiar face on the other side that was just slightly distorted by fog. Her breath hitched in her throat.

_Oh, god… Nate._

Nora’s eyes widened and she stumbled forward, catching herself on the control panel to the right of her husband’s pod. Her fingers curled into a fist and she banged on the panel, though nothing responded, at least not until she reached for the red switch at the bottom and forced it upward.

_Malfunction in cryopod array. Manual release override initiated._

Panic had set in her bones like arthritis the moment she awoke trapped in her icy prison, but now she felt it pulse through her muscles and seep from her pores, filling the vault like a thick gas. A light began flashing in the room and her heart started racing, and she knew if she was the beach of a deserted island then the feeling of dread was the waves of sea water rising up her shores, and instead of retreating as waves normally would, they only engulfed her more and more until there was nothing left but the calm expanse of blue ocean.

“Come on, come on, come on! Oh, god. Oh, _fuck.”_

As the pod door was opening, another cough forced itself from her lungs, sending a sharp pain through her chest this time. She put her hand on the spot where the pain originated but otherwise managed to ignore it as her eyes finally met her husband’s face without the barrier of the pod’s glass between them.

Fuck.

A thin layer of ice sat over every inch of his lifeless body while a bullet hole punctured the center of his forehead. Nora’s lips parted though nothing came out while tears welled in her eyes, spilling over the bottom lids and trailing streaks of wetness down her freckled cheeks, resembling rivulets running over stones.

He was gone.

Dead.

Nate was dead. The love of her life, the father of her child, the—oh, god, her _child!_ Where was Shaun? Where was her baby!?

She thought back to the last thing she remembered.

_Someone was at the door. She signed some papers. There was news on the television. The sirens sounded. They ran to the vault. The bombs dropped. The platform lowered. She, her husband, her baby, and some of their neighbors entered their new home. It was supposed to be a safe haven during a nuclear disaster but instead turned into a frozen tomb for who the hell knew how long._

_They spoke to a doctor and were given vault suits to wear, then were taken back to a room with a bunch of pods and told the pods would do… something._

_Someone woke them later on: a bald man with a scar down his face and someone else dressed in white while wearing a sort of gas mask. They stood in front of Nate’s pod—what did they want?_

Nora tightly closed her eyes, forcing more tears down her cheeks. She had to remember. She _had_ to.

_Her husband’s pod was opened just as she came to and the person in the white suit tried to take Shaun from him, but Nate wouldn’t allow it._

_“I’m not giving you Shaun!” he screamed while keeping his grip on their baby._

_And then… the bald man had shot her husband in the head, sending his body to lay back in the pod, lifeless, as blood splattered onto the yellow confines of his tomb. And before her husband’s murderer had left, he’d looked right into Nora’s pod—looked her right in the fucking eye—and said something. What was it? Something about a backup?_

Her eyes snapped open before she reached out a hand to Nate, but stopped halfway, leaving her hand hanging in the air. If she touched him, would he break? He was dead, but she didn’t want to damage him even more. It felt… wrong. Still, she shook her head and gently cupped his cheek, her hand just barely grazing the icy, frozen skin. Those hazel eyes she’d fallen in love with were glazed over and lifeless—they were no longer Nate’s.

“I’ll find who did this, baby, and I’ll get Shaun back. I promise,” she whispered to the deceased love of her life.

Glancing down, Nora gently grabbed his wedding ring off his finger, being careful not to tug it too roughly; once it slid free, she settled it onto her own finger, the same one that held her own wedding ring—the same ring that said she’d promised the rest of her life to the man in front of her.

He’d promised the rest of his life to her, as well… but his life was gone much sooner than she’d ever thought it’d be; like a lit match dropped into water just after striking. Whoever the bald man was, she’d find him, and she’d make him fucking pay.

But first, she needed to get out of this frozen tomb. Right fucking now.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Traversing the vault only made her frustrated and angry, which she took out on the enormous cockroaches that occupied a few of the rooms. Nora didn’t have enough time to dwell on _why_ they were so goddamn huge because she just needed to get away—she couldn’t fucking _breathe._

But soon enough, she was standing in front of the platform she’d stood on however long ago that brought her husband to his doom and her son to his uncertain fate. The gate rose in front of her and she took a deep inhale before stepping under it and onto the circular platform, unsure if she was truly ready for it to take her to the surface; she had no idea what to expect, after all.

It closed again with a loud _clank_ and the platform below her jolted, turning her stomach; but whether that was from the actual movement, the memory of her first time riding it down into the vault, or from the anxiety of seeing what might have become of the world after the bombs, she wasn’t sure.

_Enjoy your return to the surface and thank you for choosing Vault-Tec._

The daylight was blinding, causing Nora to raise her arm to block out the sun that beamed its rays down into her eyes. Everything was fuzzy at first, but once her surroundings started coming into focus, it felt like her heart stopped.

Everything was… dead. The grass was brown and clumpy, the trees were leafless and lifeless, and there were no animals scurrying around or making noises like they should have been. Where were the birds? The squirrels? The rabbits? 

_Dead. All dead._

Then again, what did she even expect? A nuclear fucking bomb was dropped on Boston—she literally saw the mushroom cloud just before she and the others had been safely lowered into the vault. But the bomb had done its job by eradicating everything, it seemed.

Was she the only one left?

_At least we still have a backup._

Nora took a few deep breaths as she let it sink in that everything she once knew was now utterly and irreparably destroyed. 

But this couldn’t be it; there had to be more. She couldn’t give up. Her baby was still out there, scared and afraid without his mother and father. Maybe she didn’t know where to look or where to even start looking, but she would find him one way or another; she’d find Shaun—she’d find him, for Nate.

And one other thing she knew for certain: she was going to find the man who stole her family from her, and she would make him regret ever stepping foot into vault one-fucking-eleven.


	2. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But now it was pissed. Well, even _more_ pissed, because the default emotion of this thing already had to be angry as hell.
> 
> The bull-like beast tipped its head back, spread its arms to the side, and thrust its bony chest out as it roared. Nora felt fear seep into her like she was soaking up fear radiation—feariation?—as it then lowered itself to all fours and began sprinting straight toward her as if the bullets didn’t even matter. And the closer it got, the more the ground beneath her shook, and the heavier her breathing became as she began to panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 12, 2020

Nora had no _real_ experience with guns other than having gone to the shooting range a handful of times with her husband. She knew the basics—how to reload, aim, shoot, and safety measures—but guns had never really been her thing. No, that was Nate; he was the big military guy who knew how to use and take care of firearms.

Nate was military. Nora was law.

So, when she was handed a 10mm and thrust into a new and terrifying life 210 years after nuclear bombs destroyed the world with nothing more than a _’have fun, you dumb bitch!’_ from the universe, it was no surprise how unhappy she was.

And, boy, was she unhappy.

The big ass roaches were horrifying, but she could handle them easily with a quick shot or two—or even, god forbid, a stomp of her boot. The enormous flies were absolutely _disgusting,_ but she could deal with those, as well, even if they were harder to aim at. The huge fucking mosquitoes… those unnerved her more than the first two, especially when one tried to stick its face in her chest, but she’d find a way to cope with that, even if some of them were ridiculously hard to kill.

But what she absolutely _could not_ deal with was the thing in front of her.

“Is that a giant fucking lizard!?” she screamed to, well, no one. The raiders nearby clearly weren’t paying her any mind because most of them were dead, and the ones who weren’t were either on the verge of death while impaled on the end of the beast’s claws or were fleeing from that same fate—not that she could blame them.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the creature from a distance. It had crawled out of Concord’s civic access tunnel just moments ago and was now smacking two raiders around like they were ragdolls. 

And this thing was huge. It was fucking _huge._ It wasn’t even close to her at the moment and she knew it was probably five times her size outside the damned power armor and probably two times bigger than her _in_ the fucking power armor. She had no idea what it was, and she really didn’t want to find out, but she knew Preston and the others she’d helped inside the museum wouldn’t make it out alive if that thing was still walking around the streets like it owned the place—and to be honest, it very well did.

Or did it pay rent? Maybe with bones. Then again, it probably ate the landlords.

Maybe they could be friends, instead.

But, alas, Nora knew what she had to do.

“Alright, Dogmeat, stay he— _Dogmeat, no!”_

The German Shepherd she’d befriended at an old Red Rocket Truck Stop on the way to Concord not even an hour ago darted off toward the sloth-fingered lizard without fear, but that fear instead embedded itself into the pit of Nora’s stomach. She started to run after the canine as if that would make a difference, but he was too fast with his four legs and she was too slow in her rusty power armor.

As soon as Dogmeat reached the beast, he lunged at it while it was distracted with the last remaining raider and grabbed onto the very end of its tail, clamping his teeth around the thick, scaly flesh; and once his feet landed on the ground, he shook his head aggressively as if he had a teddy bear in his mouth. The creature that was made of whatever was the exact opposite of hugs and bubbles screamed with anger and turned around, swiping one of its long-clawed hands at the dog, but thankfully missed. It turned its body, intending to reach Dogmeat by doing so, but instead just took the poor canine for a ride as he dangled from the end of its tail.

And then they just… spun in circles like that a few times, the giant lizard trying to grab Dogmeat and Dogmeat hanging onto its tail for dear life, growling ferociously, knowing he was being an asshole and only pissing the thing off more.

Nora stood there, dumbfounded, as she watched the scene unfold before her. Was this… really happening? Was this creature that reeked of violence and death actually chasing its tail because a 70-pound dog was dangling off the end of it, growling and teasing and taunting?

“Hey!” a voice shouted from behind and above her.

Turning to look, she spotted Preston, the man who seemed to be the leader of the group she’d helped earlier, standing on the balcony of the Concord Museum of Freedom, waving his arms at her.

“Get to shooting while it’s distracted!”

“Right,” she muttered to herself before turning back around and lifting her minigun. But one problem remained: how did she get Dogmeat to let go so she didn’t accidentally shoot him, instead? She’d briefly had a dog when she was a kid, but… _Oh, yeah._

As the minigun’s barrel started spinning and beginning to glow a brighter and brighter red by the second, Nora yelled to her canine companion. “Dogmeat, _drop it!”_

Just before shots began to fly through the air, the German Shepherd released the giant lizard’s tail, ducked a swipe of its claws, and ran for cover. The minigun sprayed bullets that pummeled the beast, turning its attention away from Dogmeat and, instead, to her.

But now it was pissed. Well, even _more_ pissed, because the default emotion of this thing already had to be angry as hell.

The bull-like beast tipped its head back, spread its arms to the side, and thrust its bony chest out as it roared. Nora felt fear seep into her like she was soaking up fear radiation—feariation?—as it then lowered itself to all fours and began sprinting straight toward her as if the bullets didn’t even matter. And the closer it got, the more the ground beneath her shook, and the heavier her breathing became as she began to panic.

The vaultie backed up as fast as she could without letting up her fire—which wasn’t very fast at all—and was heading toward the open building to her left where she figured she might be safe because it looked like the beast was just a little _too_ big to fit through the doorway. But just before she made it inside, it reached her. A large, clawed hand stretched out and grabbed the chest piece of her power armor, pulling her toward its face, the force of the tug causing her finger to slip off the trigger of her minigun.

That was when she was able to get a good look at it.

Its skin was a pale brown beneath its jaw, the same color traveling along its chest and belly, but the rest of it was a darker tan color. Two horns protruded from a nearly-flat forehead, twisting back before curving to a point straight forward. Small, blood red eyes bore into her soul but told her it probably had terrible vision—though the large nostrils likely meant its great sense of smell would have easily compensated for poor eyesight. Thick, sharp, yellow teeth filled its maw, and she was so close that she could see pieces of flesh and cloth stuck between some of them, which meant there was no way this thing had brushed its teeth in _months._ And while she couldn’t see the hand that gripped the piece of armor on her chest, she could see how the other one at its side bared long, bony fingers with even longer claws that looked like they could cut down a goddamn tree with one swipe.

But only now was Nora entirely grateful for the bulky power armor she wore, partially for the physical protection it provided and partially for the glass on the helmet that separated her face from the beast’s nasty breath and slobber as the raptor-thing pulled her close to its face and then—rudely enough—roared right into hers. Spit flew from its maw and landed on her helmet like raindrops, but the roar itself made her wince as it rang in her ears.

That was enough to snap her out of her momentary stupor and get her to finally react appropriately.

Well, mostly appropriately.

“Fuck you, you sad excuse for a dinosaur!” Nora yelled as she thrusted the minigun upward against the underside of the beast’s maw; the whirring sound of the motor echoed between its large body and her metal one. And when the rotary barrel turned a red hot, it began burning the creature’s flesh as bullets penetrated its skin.

While the bullets had done next to nothing earlier, they certainly did damage now. The creature screamed as her ammo went into the soft skin beneath its jaw, ripping through its mouth and then straight out the top of its muzzle. It dropped her and she only managed to just barely land on her plated feet while keeping her aim on the fucked-up dinosaur before her. Its long fingers went to its face as if to cover the wounds she’d just tore through it, but as she continued shooting the pale brown skin of its jaw, throat, and belly, she knew she was doing more and more damage.

Soon enough, it fell over lifeless.

Nora let up on her minigun, the noise of it winding down falling upon deaf ears as the only thing she could hear anymore was the sound of her heavy breathing in her helmet and her heart pounding in her ears. She stared at the dead beast before her, hesitant to move in case it was somehow smart enough to fake its own death and then eat her once she got close enough, however unlikely that was.

_”Hey! Are you okay?”_

Panicked eyes stared at it, trying to figure out what the hell it could be. The other creatures she’d encountered seemed to have mutated from obvious things from her time—cockroaches, houseflies, mosquitoes—but this? She had no idea what this was or what it came from. Was this actually some sort of dinosaur? Shit, maybe she should have gone to school for paleontology rather than law. Both degrees would be ultimately useless now, though.

_”Hey, lady! Damnit. Sturges, what was her name?”_

But she could have sworn she saw the damn thing move and her breath hitched in her throat, eyes widening. Dogmeat approached from the side and whined at her, nudging one of her metal-clad hands, but she didn’t pay him any mind. She was too fucking terrified.

_”Oh, yeah. Nora!”_

The sound of her name snapped her out of it, and she blinked, coming back from her fear-induced coma. With furrowed eyebrows, Nora turned, looking up to Preston on the balcony, Sturges having joined him. “I’m okay,” she finally croaked out, waving her hand nonchalantly.

Preston pursed his lips and eyed her for a moment, clearly not believing her, but he let it slide all the same. “Meet us down in the lobby, will you?”

With a nod and one last look to the lifeless beast on the ground, she stomped her way back into the museum. She couldn’t wait to get out of the goddamn power armor—it was starting to feel like another tomb.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

The walk from Concord to Sanctuary wasn’t long, but Nora remained quiet for most of it, lost in her own thoughts as the crash from her adrenaline rush was hitting her hard. Hell, she wasn’t even really aware of her surroundings despite having agreed to help protect the small group of people as they traveled to their new homestead— _her_ homestead. Or what was left of it, at least.

Just before reaching the bridge, however, Preston stopped, though told everyone to head into the neighborhood. Nora remained near him and the two watched the others for a moment before the Minuteman finally turned to face her.

“I’m glad you decided to come with us,” he admitted. It certainly felt like a bit of relief to be wanted. “I should have listened to Mama Murphy all along, I guess. Pretty nice place she’s found for us. I’m thinking we could settle down here, make it a home. What about you? What do you think?”

Nora thought about the question before answering. The houses were clearly no longer in use because no one lived there anymore—other than Codsworth, of course, who had miraculously survived the fallout—so there was no reason to let the structures just go to waste, was there? Her neighbors weren’t around to protest people moving into their homes or walking on their lawns or existing in their presence anymore. They’d all either perished from the bombs or suffocated in the pods.

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking out over the part of the neighborhood she could see. Thankfully, her and Nate’s house was out of view. “The houses will need work, some will need to be cleared out and rebuilt completely, but I think it’ll be a good place to live. I mean, I used to like living here before it all went to shit from the bombs.”

Preston eyed her suspiciously. “What do you mean _’from the bombs’?”_

“I lived here. Before the bombs. I was, uh… frozen, or some shit, for over 200 years. Just woke up a little while ago.” 

“Damn,” he whispered. “Like one of those old prewar ghouls.”

Nora finally returned her gaze back to him, brows furrowed in confusion. She had no idea what he was talking about but felt not asking for clarification was a safer bet for the time being. Whatever a ‘ghoul’ was, she didn’t know if being compared to one was a good thing judging by the name alone.

“Oh, uh,” Preston started, clearing his throat. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got another favor to ask. I’ve had word from a settlement asking for help. They’re still hoping there are Minutemen out there somewhere, and the only chance to start rebuilding the Minutemen is to show people that they can count on us when they need us, you know? Trouble is, I’ve got my hands full here. Do you think you could go help out the settlement?”

“Yeah, sure. I’d be glad to help.”

That made Preston beam. “That’s fantastic!” The man certainly knew how to brighten the mood with just his grin. “The Minutemen could use more people like you.”

Maybe helping out with the Minutemen here and there would be good for her; she could keep looking for her son and help some people along the way, making the world a little bit better and safer one day at a time. It wasn’t like he’d need her help _all_ the time, right?


	3. Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Nate was still alive, he’d definitely rub it in her face how she was going to be wearing that damned hat all day tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 12, 2020

“Mum, I think you’re being a bit too harsh toward Mister Garvey. Surely, he’ll ask how your day is going before requesting your help…?”

“I’m telling you, Codsworth. He won’t. He’ll immediately ask for my help with a settlement—it happens every time I return to Sanctuary.”

Codsworth sighed loudly—or did whatever the robot equivalent of a human sigh was—as he floated beside Nora, the two having just passed Red Rocket in the direction of Sanctuary Hills. For the past few minutes, they’d been going back and forth about what the first thing Preston would say to her was. Nora knew the truth, but Codsworth wasn’t convinced.

“Very well, Mum. If you insist.”

“And if I’m riiiiight,” she drawled, leaning toward the Mister Handy and nudging his metal frame with her elbow. It shoved him to the side just a little, but he managed to balance himself by shifting on his thruster, though he didn’t seem bothered.

 _”If_ you are correct—which I am not convinced you will be—then I will follow through with our deal. Assuming you will follow through, as well.”

Nora grinned with all teeth and excitement before nodding her head. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing it.”

Just as they crossed the bridge into Sanctuary Hills, Codsworth’s eye stalks rotated and caught sight of the Minuteman already approaching them. He gasped, keeping his voice low as he made Nora aware with a soft _’Mum!’_

Turning her attention to where Preston was coming from, the vaultie narrowed her eyes and started speaking in a low, mocking tone that was supposed to resemble the Minuteman’s voice while she started saying his spiel for him, though it was only loud enough for Codsworth to hear. At the same time, Nora grabbed onto the brim of a non-existent cowboy hat atop her head, her legs bouncing out to the sides as if she was riding a horse. “General, another settlement needs your help! I’ll mark it on your map!”

Preston sort of cocked his head to the side, watching in a mixture of curiosity in confusion, but Nora ensured she’d stopped speaking as soon as he was close enough. “General. Codsworth,” the Minuteman greeted, tipping his hat. Dark eyes glanced at the both of them, seeming to notice how the robot and vault dweller exchanged a look, though he chose not to comment on it.

And then he started with his real intentions. “General, another settlement needs your help. I’ll mark it on your map.”

The Mister Handy audibly gasped in a clear cocktail of surprise and sheer horror, causing Preston to pause and look at the robot with an even more confused expression. “Doing alright, Codsworth?”

“Um… um… y-yes, Mister Garvey!” Codsworth sputtered; Nora could only snicker.

While Preston eyed the robot skeptically, clearly not believing the answer he was provided, Nora dug in her bag and pulled out a black bowler hat, then roughly plopped it onto Codsworth’s head, the force causing him to bob up and down a bit before he set himself straight on his thruster. And rather than waiting for any sort of reaction, she just turned and started walking toward her house.

The Colonel opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, so instead he just stared after Nora, blinking and flubbing, before turning back to Codsworth, who stared back at him with wide, rotating eyes.

“Ah… good—good night, Mister Garvey!” he said hurriedly before floating off after Nora, leaving the Minuteman there with his jaw slightly agape and even more confused than before.

As she made her way into the house, Codsworth trailed close behind, but they separated when he went into the destroyed kitchen while she went into Shaun’s old bedroom. Slowly, Nora approached the blue crib, taking in the sight of its chipped paint and the broken spaceship mobile that hung above it. No one in the settlement needed it, but she just couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it, either, so instead, she’d had it repositioned back to the same spot it was in before the bombs dropped.

The vaultie only spent a few minutes in her son’s old room, just as she did every night upon coming home in this nuclear wasteland, before turning and heading into her own bedroom—the one she shared with Nate 210 years ago. She was greeted by a wagging tail that thudded against the mattress and a tongue that was lolled out of the maw of a familiar canine companion.

“Hey, boy,” she whispered, reaching out to gently stroke Dogmeat’s ears before pulling her armor and clothes off, then changing into a long, loose-fitting t-shirt.

Before the war, her and Nate’s bedroom had large windows covered with dark curtains, but those windows had since shattered and the curtains burned up from the nuclear blast, leaving gaping holes in her bedroom walls. Once she’d reclaimed her house, she put large strips of cardboard against the gaps to cover them up; and while they offered no protection against enemies, they certainly did from prying eyes and the bright morning sun.

Sliding into bed with Dogmeat, she curled beneath the warm blanket with him and cuddled into his soft fur, running her nails along the ridges of his ears. But the sound of Codsworth’s whirring thruster grew louder and his accented voice hit her ears from the doorway of the bedroom.

“Mum,” he said quietly; she rolled over to face him, “Since it is my turn for the bet, I have decided what it should be.”

A smirk spread across her face. “Go on.”

“Since you’ve put up these new ‘blinds,’ so to speak, you continuously wake up later and later in the morning. Before… well, before everything, you and Sir would wake up no later than 8am sharp on days you did not work. So, if you wake up any later than 8am tomorrow, it is your turn to wear the hat.”

Nora narrowed her eyes, but her sleepy smirk turned into a sleepy grin. He was too good at this; he knew her too well. Nate would be proud. “Alright, Codsworth. You’re on.”

The Mister Handy made a satisfied noise and bid her goodnight before leaving the room, the sound of his whirring lessening in the distance but never completely fading from her ears, acting as a sort of lullaby. If Nate was still alive, he’d definitely rub it in her face how she was going to be wearing that damned hat all day tomorrow.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

_Automated Message Repeating: This is Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius. To any unit in transmission range: Authorization Arks, Pharaoh, Nine, Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we’re running low on supplies. We’re requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station._

Before she even had a chance to think on it, Nora was running toward the police station—a type of building she’d found herself in far too many times before the war when it came to her job and when it didn’t. Fuck, she thought she’d never have to see the fucking cops again.

With Dogmeat at her side, she was quick to make her way toward the station, the sound of laser fire growing louder with each step. Lowering herself into a crouch, she pulled the rifle from her back, gripping it tightly just as she rounded the corner—but a different sort of sound caught her attention, one that wasn’t from a gun. Instead, it was a snarl that sent shivers up her spine, and before she even knew what was happening or where it was coming from, a feral fucking ghoul was launching itself right at her. Thankfully, Dogmeat was paying attention for them both and launched himself right back at the feral, colliding with it in midair and using his body weight to force it to the ground, then locking his jaws around its arm. That gave Nora the perfect opportunity to cock her rifle and aim for its head; the creature went down in an explosion of brains and blood that splattered onto the steel barrier just behind it. 

Fuck, that was close.

Quickly, Nora ducked beneath an opening in one of the barriers and went into the courtyard just in front of the police station.

A red beam of laser fire just barely missed her, and she shot a glare at the person who almost made a new hole in her chest, being met with the stare of a huge man in an even huger—was that a word? Huger? Whatever—set of power armor, though he was missing the helmet. He cocked a thick, dark eyebrow at her as if it was _her_ fault for standing in the way of his fire, and then he even had the balls to shoot yet _another_ beam in her direction. This one went straight past her and… oh. When Nora turned around to look, two ferals were sprawled on the ground on top of one another, indicating both shots had been intended for them and he’d actually saved her from becoming feral chow.

The vaultie pursed her lips and turned back around to look at the steel-clad man, but his attention was already focused on more of the damn zombies that were pouring into the courtyard. She joined him and, together—along with Dogmeat, of course—they took down countless ferals before anyone else was seriously injured. Well, it was mostly the guy and Dogmeat, really. But Nora helped. Some.

Once there weren’t any more enemies tumbling over the walls or under the barricades, the metal man approached her, his chocolate brown eyes filled with judgment. He studied her up and down—and down and down and _down,_ because he was fucking _tall_ —seeming to take in every freckle on her face before finally speaking in a baritone voice that boomed and vibrated her entire being. Or maybe that was an earthquake.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilian, but what is your business here?”

She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut, repeating it a couple times. Was he joking? Or was that dumb-looking hood on his head so tight that it was restricting the blood flow to his brain and making him forget there was a goddamn distress signal sent out by someone at the station?

After a second, her face relaxed, and a sweet smile crossed her lips; she watched as his eyebrow twitched, glancing down to her mouth in even more suspicion. “Heard you had a feral problem, came to save the day,” she replied charmingly while jutting her hip out and putting a hand on it.

The man furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes, giving her another once-over as if that would reveal some true ulterior motive that involved consuming his soul, stealing his semen, and frying his body for lunch. One of those things sounded appealing, at least.

“Evading my questions is a surefire way of getting yourself ejected from the compound, civilian, so please do not think just because you offered your help that it means you are unable to overstay your welcome.” 

Nora was certain the stubble on his face was bristling with frustration.

“Are you from a local settlement?” he asked.

“These questions really aren’t necessary. I followed the radio signal that called for help, but you’re interrogating me like I’m some sort of criminal.” Humming lightly, she glanced back at the police station’s building behind her. “But I guess the place you’re holed up in would be fitting, if that’s your goal,” she mumbled.

But he still wasn’t having it. “This would be much easier for both of us if you’d cooperate.”

Really, Nora was unsure how to proceed. She had no idea who this guy was, but he was clearly some sort of authority figure; and if she’d learned anything about authority figures, it was that most of them had god complexes they just couldn’t get over. They were bossy and controlling and used their influence and resources to exert and expand their power over others; they lacked empathy, hurt those who were less fortunate, and were just fucking _abusive._ And this guy didn’t seem any fucking different. He seemed like a fucking asshole, really. And considering the symbol on his armor—a symbol she didn’t recognize—he was definitely some higher rank in some sort of organization, probably military. What rank and what organization, though, she had no idea.

Her hand finally dropped from her hip and she threw her arms in the air, exhaling in frustration. “Fuck, man. I’m from Vault 111, alright?”

The answer seemed to take him aback and his eyebrows raised just slightly, though only for a moment. “You’re a vault dweller? Most people wouldn’t admit to such a thing. I appreciate your honesty.”

After not even giving her a damn choice, Nora couldn’t help but just glare at him.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

The steel-clad man—Paladin Danse, she’d learned—requested her help in retrieving some sort of transmitter thingy-ma-bob from a location nearby, but it took some convincing for her to agree. The guy was an asshole, so part of her wanted to let him suffer, but he’d promised her compensation for her efforts _and_ he had wounded comrades, so she would have felt bad for just leaving them all there. Nora was a sucker for helping people.

And his silky-smooth baritone voice _might_ have made it a bit harder to decline. 

Which was why she found herself accompanying him to the Arcjet Systems building right then and there because he seemed so desperate.

But god-fucking-damn if he didn’t make the trip fucking difficult.

“Civilian.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Civilian, I want to clarify how much I appreciate your help in this mission. It is of the utmost importance we retrieve the deep range transmitter.”

“Yes, you have definitely mentioned that already. Like, at least five times.”

“In doing so, I also believe I should mention how dangerous this mission will likely be. My power armor protects me from being harmed in many ways, but you do not have power armor and therefore can be easily harmed.”

Nora stopped walking, which caused Danse to stop, as well, as he turned to face her; she stared up at him with a bland expression. “Is there a point you’re trying to make, Danse?”

“Paladin Danse.”

Ah, so he could correct the name she used for him, but she couldn’t tell him not to call her _’civilian.’_ Alright, big guy.

He continued. “And, yes. There is. I must admit, while I feel your armor is… insufficient,” he waved a metal hand up and down, directing it at her body armor, “I feel your headgear is perhaps even _more_ insufficient.” The Paladin paused and they locked eyes for a long moment; Nora was silently _daring_ him to say it. “Is there a reason you’re wearing a bowler hat instead of a helmet, civilian?”

The vaultie remained still, staring directly at him without saying a word; the silence between them seemed to make Danse uncomfortable after a moment, however, as he shifted on his feet and glanced away from her, even clearing his throat. But when she didn’t respond to that, he finally questioned her.

“Civilian?”

“I lost a bet,” Nora replied before turning on her heel and walking toward the building.


	4. FTD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, she wanted to punch this dickbag in his fucking face. She couldn’t wait to slit his throat and put a bullet in his head—she couldn’t fucking _wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 13, 2020

_I can only see that you’re on the right path. If you had any doubts in your mind, you shouldn’t. The man you’re after, he’s the one. He wears all the pain he’s caused like a shield. Be strong, kid. The Sight’s gettin’… foggy. But your energy is glowin’ brighter than you know. You can win this. He can’t hurt you anymore._

Mama Murphy’s words rang over and over in her mind like a broken holotape.

_You can win this. He can’t hurt you anymore._

_You can win this. He can’t hurt you anymore._

_He can’t hurt you anymore._

_He can’t hurt you anymore._

_He can’t hurt you anymore._

“Hostile sensor reading detected.”

The deep, robotic voice flooded Nora’s ears from ahead, bouncing off the walls of the narrow hallway as a set of yellow eyes zeroed in on her; she raised her rifle and popped off a few shots into the synth’s chest. The humanoid robot collapsed on the floor, but just as she was ready to dart down the hall and take out the other one that she knew was lurking right around the corner, a low, rapid beeping noise caught her attention, her eyes diverting to the machine gun turret that had been directly behind the now-destroyed synth.

Now, how did she miss that?

Bullets poured from the turret straight at her and she ducked behind a crate with a skeleton and some barrels in it that sat on the right side of the pathway. Nick had been behind her moments ago, but he’d unchained a door they’d passed before dipping inside the room it revealed. Even though she’d lost track of him, she had no doubt the detective knew what he was doing, so she didn’t worry about him too much. It wasn’t like he’d abandon her, anyway.

The turret came to a rest to cool down and Nora took that opportunity to twist and rise over the crate with her rifle aimed, taking a few shots and making it explode into pieces.

Great. So, that left her with one synth.

After briefly checking the remaining ammo in her rifle, the vaultie rounded the crate to continue down the hall; but with her lack of true observational skills in combat—she was a lawyer, not a goddamn soldier—she missed the laser tripwire that hovered just inches above the ground on the opposite side of her previous hiding spot, her foot sliding directly through it and activating it. The tesla trap above her lit up, sending out blue bolts of electricity that shot off in different directions, connecting with the walls, floor, crate, and even once with Nora’s arm where the sleeves of her vault suit were rolled up before she yelped out in a mixture of surprise and pain.

That noise was enough to alert the remaining synth that she was preoccupied with the cleverly-placed trap.

Blue lights sped past her, one grazing her forearm just above where the bolt of electricity had struck her, slicing through just enough of her skin to draw blood. “Ow, what the fuck!” she shrieked, yanking her arm away. 

Great. Real fucking great.

The urge to turn and duck behind the crate again briefly crossed her mind but she knew that wasn’t a safe spot considering the tesla trap was still going off. Instead, she risked it and ran down the hall in the direction her and Nick originally came from, then dove into the room the detective had disappeared into minutes ago.

Taking a few moments to compose herself, Nora glanced down at the dark spot on her arm where the electricity had zapped her, then the slice where the synth’s rifle fire had connected. They weren’t bad wounds, so she didn’t need to address them; not yet, at least.

But while Kellogg’s death was inevitable, he was just making it more and more likely she’d ensure he suffered. These synths and traps were fucking _annoying._

The vaultie took a deep breath before pressing forward, then rounded the corner in the new room to continue through the opening on the other side with the intention of taking out the remaining synth. However, as soon as she stepped through the opening, she found her enemy was already on the ground with Nick standing over it, a cigarette placed between his lips as if he could really enjoy the nicotine it provided. She smiled gently to him, glad he didn’t abandon her even though she never worried he would. 

Bringing Nick along was an easy and obvious decision considering she only had a handful of choices for companions. While she adored Preston and his kindness, he always asked so much of her that she often felt overwhelmed. Dogmeat had excellent listening skills but he also lacked good conversation, and she really needed that lately with all the information she was discovering. Codsworth was fucking adorable but he was the only thing she had left of her prewar days, and she really didn’t want to risk losing him. And Piper? Well, Nora figured she’d rather have Nick by her side than the overly-talkative reporter who kept asking her extremely personal questions that the vaultie wasn’t sure wouldn’t end up in the latest issue of _Publick Occurrences._

Besides, Piper had invited herself along when she’d gone to find Nick, so she _really_ needed a break from the woman in red right now. Just for a while.

_”Well, if it isn’t my old friend the frozen TV dinner.”_

Nora froze at the bottom of the steps when she heard that voice over the intercom. She knew that voice; she knew _him._

“Kellogg,” she whispered under her breath.

_”Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”_

Nick placed a hand on her shoulder from behind; she startled at the touch. A quick glance back at the detective had him giving her a slightly nod and reassuring smile before gently patting her shoulder, then letting go. Nora audibly gulped and returned the nod, forcing herself to move forward—one foot in front of the other. That was all it took.

_You can win this. He can’t hurt you anymore._

_You can win this. He can’t hurt you anymore._

_You can win this. He can’t hurt you anymore._

And Mama Murphy was right—Kellogg couldn’t hurt her anymore. He’d already done the most damage to her by killing her husband and taking her son, so there was nothing else he could do. Sure, he could take her life, but that was nothing when he’d taken everything else that was so much more important. And attempts to take her life were nothing new—not now, and not before the bombs.

_”Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years, but I don’t need a roommate. Leave.”_

His words made her snort. Yeah, like she was about to fucking leave. She’d gotten this far, found the man who’d killed her husband and stole her baby. She was so goddamn _close,_ did he really think she’d just let him escape? That she’d let him off the hook and give him the chance to ruin another fucking family? There was no telling how many others he’d already done the same to.

But he wouldn’t get the chance to destroy any more families. Not after today.

Moving into Fort Hagen’s Command Center, Nora noticed the broken consoles and desks that lined the walls, glancing them over for anything useful before turning to head down the stairs.

_”Huh. Never expected you to come knocking on my door; gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like radstag jerky.”_

Really, even she was surprised she’d made it this far. Nate was the survivor; he was the one who knew how to do all this shit. Without him, Nora wouldn’t have even made it into her mid-20s. But here she was, living through postwar Boston, so far not having died from food poisoning or dysentery or deathclaws or falling off a cliff or becoming some weird guy’s fetish art exhibit. 

That would certainly be her death—something fucking stupid.

 _”Look, you’re pissed off, I get it. I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish here?”_ Kellogg paused, a sigh coming through the intercom as if he had some amount of regret about what he’d done or what he thought the inevitable outcome was—her death, he likely assumed. _”It’s not gonna go your way.”_

But that was what finally got a reaction from her. Nora snapped, standing to her full height, her eyes darting around the ceiling and searching for a camera or an intercom—something that she could direct her anger at. Maybe he could hear or see her, she didn’t know. But what she did know was that she wanted to fucking _scream._

“You don’t fucking get it! You don’t! you took my entire fucking family from me—my entire fucking _life!_ —you goddamn monster! And I’ll make sure you don’t leave this place alive, even if that means I don’t, either!”

_“You got guts and determination, and that’s admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can’t possible comprehend.”_

God, she wanted to punch this dickbag in his fucking face. She couldn’t wait to slit his throat and put a bullet in his head—she couldn’t fucking _wait._

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Kellogg paced the dark room, eyes glancing to the terminals displaying cameras that followed Nora and her companion as they traveled from room to room in the compound. The mercenary was getting antsy; he hadn’t expected her to make it this far, so she was doing much, much better than he’d ever anticipated. Now, he was almost certain she’d reach the spot he’d holed up in, and that meant one of them would die tonight. It was guaranteed.

But he shouldn’t have underestimated her.

He leaned forward on the desk in front of him where the microphone sat, one finger pressing down on its base to activate the intercom as he spoke into it once again. “It’s not too late. Stop, turn around, and leave. You have that option; not a lot of people can say that.”

While his voice didn’t shake or sound desperate, he knew his words likely came off that way. He was trying to convince her to leave despite how she’d killed synth after synth after synth, leaving behind a metal body count that was slowly reaching the triply digits. And, hell, her aim wasn’t even that good.

Kellogg wasn’t scared—at least he didn’t think he was. Hell, he’d been preparing for his death for a long ass time, knowing he’d be able to see his family again one day. The only problem was that he knew he wouldn’t do it himself and he knew he wouldn’t go down without a fight, as neither of those scenarios were truly him.

But Nora? Nora was probably his release—no, she _was_ his release. His out. His escape from this goddamned world. He’d lived a long life, done too many fucking things he regretted that made him think maybe the death at the hand of a vengeful, widowed mother wasn’t the worst way to go; and he couldn’t help but think this woman was some sort of beautiful karma he’d fucked with all those years ago who was now back to take him out.

As he watched her descend the stairs and approach the door that lead to the room he was in, Kellogg sighed. It was time to face her. Whatever happened tonight was fate. He leaned in again, pressing down the button on the microphone and speaking through the intercom once more. “Okay, you made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Nora cautiously walked into the room, rifle drawn and dancing between targets. Nick was at her back and doing the same, though he was sure to never rest his pistol on the same synth as her. She glanced between enemies, though all of them had their weapons lowered; and as soon as her eyes finally landed on Kellogg, he began to speak.

“And there she is: the most resilient woman in the Commonwealth, gracing my doorstep.”

Her rifle was immediately lowered to her side as she quickly and threatening stomped up to him, and the synths raised their guns just slightly, but Kellogg made a motion with his hand to keep them from firing. Nora stopped right in front of him, almost too close for comfort, meeting him face-to-face—well, more like face-to-chest, considering she was so short—and they just stared at one another for a long moment. A barely visible yet cocky smirk was plastered along his lips and she so badly wanted to rip it off his face.

“You came a long way, Leonora Parker. Let’s hear it.”

Taking a deep breath, Nora tried to calm herself. “Where is my son? And don’t you fucking dare pretend like you don’t know who I’m talking about,” she hissed.

But Kellogg had the fucking gall to chuckle. “Lady, I’m just a puppet like you; my stage is just a little bigger, that’s all.” Puppet? Stage? “Shaun’s a good kid, though. A bit older than you expected, yeah? But he’s doing great. Only… he’s not here, as you can see.” Kellogg spread his arms out a bit, motioning around them. “He’s with the people pulling the strings.”

She was growing tired of the games, though she was still trying to take in everything he was saying despite how he wasn’t really saying much at all. So, it was true? Shaun was older than when she’d last seen him, than when she’d last held him in her arms? She’d missed out on ten years of her baby’s life?

“Goddamnit, you fucking _bastard!”_ Nora snarled. “Where is my fucking son!?” Her voice was raised but she felt it tremble along with her entire body; she was on the verge of losing it—on the verge of the panic and tears all overflowing at once. All the pent-up rage she’d been trying to control since waking up and realizing everything she’d lost—her husband, her son, the _entire fucking world_ —was ready to leak from every microscopic hole in her body and fill the room until they all drowned in it.

But all this mercenary seemed to be interested in doing was mocking her.

“What’s the cliché? _’So close, yet so far?’_ That’s your son.” What the fuck did that even _mean!?_ “But don’t worry, you’ll die knowing he’s safe and happy. A bit older than you expected, like I said, but… ah, well. At least he’s in a loving home,” with a pause, they made eye contact, and she felt her heart stop, “The Institute.”

Something in Nora’s chest tightened while her head spun. Shaun was in the Institute? He was stuck with those despicable people who kidnap and kill folks, without her and without his father—without anyone who loves him? 

“No… No, no, no, no. That’s not true. That can’t be true,” she croaked, not even recognizing her own voice. Her fingers ran through her hair while her eyes fell to the ground. “I’ve… I’ve come so far. I’ve done everything—everything I was supposed to do to find him. And he’s…there? With—with them? That’s not—that _can’t…”_

Kellogg stared at her with an almost amused expression from her sudden change in mood. Where she’d originally entered the room as the confident, vengeful mother, she was now the hopeless, depressed, childless widow, and all it took was finding out where her son was being kept. Did he somehow find that _funny?_

“Yes, you have,” he quietly agreed. “And believe it or not… I’m actually kind of sorry you wasted your time.” 

“You’re sorry,” she whispered beneath her breath, but he either didn’t hear it or ignored it.

“In another life, you probably would’ve been a good mother, would’ve taken good care of your baby; we both know that. You and your husband would’ve him to the park, changed his diapers, sang him lullabies, bought him everything he could have ever wanted or needed. Maybe you would’ve even raised him to be someone important who makes positive differences in people’s lives. But here? In this reality? In this fucked-up apocalypse? You just don’t get that chance, sweetheart.”

Nora’s eyes dropped to the ground again as tears welled in them. Sadness washed over her like a tidal wave, overwhelming her just like it had when she’d escaped her cryopod; just like it had the night she’d met Preston and he’d asked about her family and if there were other survivors from her vault. She knew Kellogg was right—she didn’t get the chance to be a good mother in this life, or even a mother at all. And she likely never would now.

But… that was his fault, wasn’t it?

“You did this.”

“Maybe. But I think we’ve been talking long enough, don’t you?”

Nora snapped her eyes up to him, the sadness she’d felt seconds ago shifting into a burning rage. He seemed to have noticed it, though, because a smile spread across his scarred face. 

“We both know how this has to end, Leonora. So… what do you say? You ready?”

Setting her jaw, the vaultie tightened her grip on her rifle and took a few slow steps back toward where Nick was lingering near the door. “I’m going to find Shaun even if that means I have to infiltrate the Institute myself, then I’ll rid the Commonwealth of those fucking bastards. But when I do finally die, I hope I get sent to hell so I can kill you all over again, you piece of fucking shit.”

Kellogg grinned at her. “I look forward to it, sweetheart.”


	5. Initiate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora’s face turned even redder, which she didn’t think was possible, and she so badly wished she could just run out the door and jump off the flight deck to her doom. It had to be less painful than this. Besides, how was Danse even getting away with talking to her the way he was? She’d never let him do it before—so why now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 13, 2020

Even before the war, Nora _hated_ flying. There was something about being high up in the air that turned her stomach—which was a normal feeling back in her day—but Paladin Danse didn’t seem to care about that as they rode the vertibird up to the Prydwen.

The trip felt like it took fucking forever and Nora found herself in a brutal battle with her own stomach to stop herself from upchucking whatever it was she’d last eaten. Cait gently rubbed her back throughout the flight, which seemed to help, but not as much as Danse’s judgmental glares and nonverbal threats to make her clean the vertibird should she vomit all over the place. And considering she had no desire to remain inside the goddamn metal ‘bird any longer than she had to, she fought with her stomach to keep her food down as much as possible.

The second they docked on the Prydwen, Nora toppled out of the ‘bird and onto the flight deck. It felt more stable—had less swaying involved—but she tried not to look over the railing to the Commonwealth below, knowing that would make it ten times worse. Cait helped her stand, though, and kept ahold of her arm just in case Nora’s slightly-shaky legs gave out as they walked up the stairs and through the metal bulkhead, entering the interior of the flying ship—after speaking to some man who nearly interrogated her mere existence, of course.

Being inside did the rest to diminish her nausea, thankfully, and she quickly felt her stomach settling while the green faded from her face.

“Better?” Cait asked.

Nora nodded with an appreciative smile, leaning over to bump her shoulder into her friend’s. “Yeah. Thanks, Cait.”

The Irish woman grinned in response and together they moved around a set of descending stairs and a ladder, heading into a room with a group of people, which was where she was instructed to go.

Six soldiers—three on each side—lined the walls to her left and right, their hands behind their backs in parade rest while they patiently waited for the opportunity to attentively listen to a man who stood near a large window on the opposite side of the room from her. At first, she wasn’t sure who the man was, assuming he might be a welcoming officer who was planning to give a sort of introduction to Initiates entering the Brotherhood of Steel; but as soon as he turned to face them and spoke, she knew that was not the case.

“Brothers and sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty.”

His voice was husky and had Nora straightening her posture, her eyes focusing on him and only him; and despite how she stood on the complete opposite side of the room, she was still able to see him clearly.

He was tall and bulky even beneath the giant brown coat he wore, and his hands being folded behind his back only pushed his chest out. A thick beard covered the lower half of his face while the hair atop his head was shaped into an undercut, the sides shaved to fade down. There was a very visible scar on his right cheek that stood out even from a distance—a trophy, no doubt. It was fitting.

But his voice and tone were all she needed in order to figure out who he was: Elder Arthur Maxson.

Nora had been around military men long enough to be able to tell who was a commanding officer and who wasn’t; they usually had a certain personality about them, a way they spoke and walked and stood, _especially_ the military brats who had service drilled into them since they were kids. Maxson seemed no different.

But there was one problem: there was no way he was older than 25.

“I bet it _is_ long,” Cait whispered just loud enough for the vaultie to hear, pulling her out of her head. 

Blinking, Nora glanced over to her friend before a grin spread across her lips and she leaned against the frame of the entrance to the observation deck, arms crossing over her chest. Well, now she wasn’t gonna be able to stop thinking about his—

“Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth.” Maxson began moving around in front of his soldiers, his charisma filling the room and nearly drowning her. “You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose, and, most impressively, without question.”

“Hm, you think it’s impressive, Cait?” Nora whispered, turning her head just enough to speak to her friend without taking her eyes off the Elder.

“Aye. Bet it is. Prolly on th’ thick side, yeh?”

Cait snickered and Nora snorted loud enough to catch Maxson’s attention. His eyes flicked to them, one brow arching just slightly as he saw the two unfamiliar women clearly staring and grinning at him like creeps, but, impressively, he didn’t falter in his speech, instead continuing with the occasional glance at the two just as he would anyone else.

“Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission: beneath the Commonwealth, there is a cancer known as the Institute; a malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world’s undoing for the second time in recent history.”

“Hell, I bet he’d be my undoing pretty easily,” Nora mumbled. Cait snickered again and one of the Brotherhood members lined up near the wall closest to her briefly turned to shoot a glare in her direction before returning his attention back to Maxson.

“The Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb; they call their creation the ‘synth’: a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being. This… notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous.”

Now, hold on. Atom bomb? What the—

“He’s definitely gotta be dangerous in bed,” Cait whispered; Nora nodded, throwing away the thoughts she’d had about the comparison he’d used.

“And like the atom, if it isn’t harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species. I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their synths are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly.”

The passion and aggression in his voice when he spoke of the Institute sent a wave of heat through her that she couldn’t explain. Perhaps the hate he had for the faction was enough to catch her attention because of what happened to her son? Because the Institute were the ones that’d taken Shaun? Not to mention this man was stupidly fucking pretty and his voice just _did something to her._

Fuck.

Sweeping her tongue along her bottom lip, Nora leaned over to Cait, whispering again. “I wonder if he’s as good with his mouth in bed as he is during speeches. And, ya know, I bet his beard would feel amazing between my thighs—”

_”Initiate!”_

The deep, baritone voice that scolded her from behind almost sent her into a state of panic. Nora’s eyes grew wide, clearly caught off guard since she hadn’t heard Danse approach—how she didn’t hear him, she’ll never know, since the guy wore fucking power armor—and her face turned a bright shade of red. Cait’s own face spread into an even wider grin, her hand moving to cover her mouth.

She found this fucking _hilarious,_ didn’t she?

But the Elder faltered in his speech this time, if only for a moment, as he studied the trio before finishing up. “This campaign will be costly, and many lives will be lost, but in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy: itself.”

The room cleared out after everyone—except her and Cait—saluted, leaving the four of them in there alone. Nora and Danse approached Elder Maxson while Cait kept her distance, though she made sure she could still listen in.

But now, Nora stood right before him, her chin tipped up to see his face— _fuck,_ he was tall, somewhere along the lines of a goddamn foot in height difference—which also meant she was close enough to see the more explicit details of his face. The big scar on his right cheek ran deep and disappeared into his beard, and there were smaller scars that ran perpendicular up and down it from what looked like hastily-done stitches. Another scar went through his right eyebrow, and then a third started above his left one, extending down into his left cheek, and then into a thick bottom lip. Nora found herself staring at the scarred part of his lip for a few moments before realizing two piercing eyes that were the color of the sky were peering at her expectantly—she had to regain her composure before trying to speak.

But before she even had the chance, the Paladin spoke up, instead. 

“Apologize to Elder Maxson immediately.”

Wait, what? Was he serious? Was he fucking _serious?_

Nora felt her face and ears grow hot again while redness flushed over her skin once more, nearly hiding the dark freckles that were splashed upon her nose and cheeks. She looked away from Maxson, instead staring off to the side and at the floor. “I, uh… I don’t…”

“Initiate,” Danse warned, and she never wanted to punch him in his face as much as she did right then—which was saying something, because she wanted to punch him quite often. “If you plan to be a part of the Brotherhood of Steel, you must take responsibility for your words and actions, no matter how inappropriate. And as your sponsor, it is _my_ responsibility to ensure you do just that. Look at Elder Maxson and apologize. Now.”

Nora’s face turned even redder, which she didn’t think was possible, and she so badly wished she could just run out the door and jump off the flight deck to her doom. It had to be less painful than this. Besides, how was Danse even getting away with talking to her the way he was? She’d never let him do it before—so why now?

She mumbled something inaudible without raising her eyes, but Danse warned her again with another _’Initiate!’_ in an even sharper tone than before. Finally, Nora gathered her courage, cleared her throat, straightened her back, puffed her chest out, and raised her eyes to the young Elder before her. He had one eyebrow cocked as he watched her, clearly unaware of what was in store for him.

“Elder Maxson,” she began, “I apologize for wondering if your mouth is as good in bed as it is during speeches and assuming your beard would feel good between my thighs.”

Cait fucking lost it. The Irish woman choked out loud laughs, doubling over and gasping for breaths as she just couldn’t contain herself, and it only made the situation worse for Nora—and clearly for the Elder, as well. And maybe for Danse as he might not have expected her to say _what_ she was apologizing for.

There was just a slight shade of pink that rose up from beneath Maxson’s beard, but he kept eye contact with her. “Apology accepted, Initiate…?”

“Parker.”

“Apology accepted, Initiate Parker.”

But Nora wasn’t about to leave it at that. No, Danse wasn’t going to have this win, or partial-win, or whatever; that wasn’t acceptable. He stole some amount of power from her by scolding her like a child, and she couldn’t let him keep it, not even for this short amount of time. No one would steal any power from her ever again—not after the vault.

“Thank you, Elder. I realize I should have _asked_ if your mouth is as good in bed as it is during speeches and whether your beard would feel good between my thighs, not wondered and assumed.”

If Nora thought Danse wasn’t going to have a heart attack when he’d caught her speaking that way before, she _definitely_ would have thought so now. He choked out another scolding _’Initiate!’_ but the Elder let a small, barely noticeable smirk cross his lips before it immediately disappeared, which apparently only she saw.

Maxson held up one hand, silencing Danse. “That’s quite alright, Paladin,” he said as he turned his back to the trio.

Cait was still laughing and Danse was probably having a stroke, but Nora felt like she’d regained some of her power in the situation as she puffed her chest out triumphantly—and it felt fucking _good._ Who was having the last laugh now?

Cait, apparently.


	6. Approached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please what, Parker?” he asked, leaning down to place a gentle nip to her shoulder.
> 
> “Please use your mouth on me, Sir.”
> 
> “Are you saying you want me to taste your cunt?”
> 
> A moan caught in her throat that he could just barely hear; she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 14, 2020  
> CHAPTER TITLE CHANGED FROM "Emotional Refuge" TO "Approached" MAY 14, 2020

“Come here.”

Nora stared at the man before her, eyeing him as she let his command roll around in her head. He’d called her in here a few moments ago for what she assumed was to speak about her recent mission, but she was beginning to think he might have had different intentions than she’d originally thought.

“Come. Here.”

His voice was firm but quiet, and part of her wondered if he ever really yelled since he could undoubtedly get his point across just by speaking in such a low, unyielding tone. It was certainly enough to get her moving forward, stepping away from the door, slowly approaching. And once she stood before him, those sky blue eyes bore down into her and she suddenly felt the urge to curl up and hide.

“Yes, Elder Maxson?” she asked softly.

Just like every time she’d stood in front of him before, their height difference had her only coming up to his chest, which meant she had to tip her chin up to even see his face—he stood somewhere around a foot taller than her, she guessed. They stared at one another for what felt like ten years, Nora growing antsy as she shifted from foot-to-foot, waiting for him to speak again. Why was he taking so long? Why did he have such an emotionless expression? Was he intentionally doing this to intimidate her—to make her uncomfortable? What the hell did he want?

But when he suddenly stepped to the side and then around her, his hands folding behind his back while he started to slowly move around the room, she could only release a shaky breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

“You’ve done excellent work this week, Knight,” Maxson said from behind her, though she didn’t dare turn around. 

But… Knight? Ah, yes, the promotion. The vaultie had received orders to take Fort Strong after barging into the Elder’s quarters while running on nothing but increasing impatience and claustrophobia from being trapped on the goddamn blimp for more than a few hours. And once she and Paladin Danse cleared out the old military base—well, _Danse_ did most of the work—she was promoted from Initiate to Knight, apparently having done good work despite almost blowing herself up a few times.

And the entire facility.

Maybe more than a few times.

Did Danse put that in the report?

But now, here she was in Arthur Maxson’s quarters thinking they were supposed to be talking about a new mission or the last mission she’d done, but the young Elder seemed to have something else in mind.

“Thank you, Elder Maxson,” she muttered while her eyes focused on a digital alarm clock he had on his nightstand. Where had he gotten that?

“You’re very welcome.”

Silence fell over the room other than the soft thuds of his boots moving along the metal floor behind her. She tried to listen for where he was, to keep track of what he was doing, but it was difficult to focus on that with the sound of her pulse was thumping in her ears. Nervousness? Anxiety? _Something._

“Last week, you made some assumptions about me that Paladin Danse had you apologize for. Care to remind me what they were?”

Oh.

_Oh, fuck._

Heat ran up Nora’s neck and into her face, her cheeks turning a bright red. Once again, she wanted to punch Danse in his stupid face and rip off that stupid hood and tell him just how fucking stupid he was. “I, um,” she started before clearing her throat, “I was… I wondered if your, um, if your mouth was as good in—in bed as it was during speeches and if your, uh, if your beard would feel good between, um… between my—my thighs.”

There was no reply at first but, instead, the thudding of his boots stopped, and she sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to turn around.

“And are you still wondering?”

Startling, the vaultie’s body jolted upward just slightly when she heard his voice _directly behind her,_ but she kept her back to him.

Before the bombs, Nora knew plenty of men who abused their power by getting involved with their subordinates or using power to threaten their subordinates to get what they wanted, whether it be sex or something else. She’d met plenty of those men herself—it was always about power to them. Always. And while there was a clear power imbalance between her and Maxson because she was _technically_ his subordinate since she’d joined the Brotherhood of Steel, she also had no real interest in staying within his ranks, anyway; the Brotherhood was just a tool for her to find her son, so… what was the harm?

She nodded her head.

“Speak your answer,” Maxson ordered.

“Yes. Yes, Elder Maxson. I’m—I’m still wondering.”

“Good. Turn and face me.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

When she turned around, she was wide-eyed, her bottom lip nervously pulled between her teeth as she chewed on it. This nervousness wasn’t exhibited any other time they’d interacted, though it was probably different now that he was offering something she likely wasn’t expecting.

She’d been part of his crew for a week thus far, completing a few missions off-ship but otherwise being fairly useless while aboard, either arguing with Danse, bothering people, or lounging around.

And he’d caught her staring at him more than a handful of times when she’d thought he wasn’t looking, too.

Parker’s initial flirtatiousness didn’t faze him much other than catching him off guard in the beginning, considering she’d done it right off the bat, but he’d grown accustomed to ignoring and brushing off remarks people made, so this was no different. Still, the vault dweller intrigued him, and he found himself watching her in return and thinking about her often. He’d wanted to approach her sooner, but Maxson was nothing if not careful and methodical in everything he did, knowing he’d established a way with how he approached anyone when it came to what he wanted within the confines of his quarters.

And being the Elder meant he had to be especially careful in that regard.

Before ever approaching anyone who he was interested in, he watched. He’d see if they had the right mindset, how they acted not just around him but around others, determine if they might grow too clingy with him if he decided to take them on—which was something he couldn’t afford—and if they ever showed interest in him. And, after keeping an eye on some other things for a while, if he determined they were a right fit, he’d approach.

It was always an offer, though—never a demand nor an order—and he’d always make it clear that if they refused, there was no retaliation, and they were more than welcome to transfer if they felt uncomfortable to continue under his command.

He had to be careful. And careful, he was.

But something about Parker made him… less careful, it seemed.

Within a week, he was approaching her. She’d shown interest, of course, but that was all the criteria she’d met. The rest? Well, the rest was shoved to the back of his mind even though he knew he’d regret doing it.

One hand lifted to her chin, his thumb and forefinger gently taking hold of it. “I have rules,” he started; Parker furrowed her brows but remained silent. “Rule one: This is just sex. There is nothing more between us and there will never be anything more between us. Do you understand?"

A glare washed over her face, which said she was displeased with his clarification. That was fine, so long as she understood.

"Rule two: I am in control at all times. This does not change; I do not switch roles. I never have, and I never will. Do I make myself clear?”

The look on her face said something—she was… unsure? Maybe? But she nodded her head, regardless.

“Speak your answer, Parker.”

“Yes, Elder Maxson,” she said quietly.

He hummed lightly. “Rule three: from now on, there is no more _’Elder’_ in this room; it is strictly _’Sir.’_ That means you will answer with _’Yes, Sir’_ and _’No, Sir’_ when I ask you a question or give you a command. Do you understand?”

The look on her face intensified—he was pulling her into unknown territory.

“You’ve never given someone else your control before, have you?” he asked, studying her face. When she shook her head, he let out a slow sigh through his nose before sweeping the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

He shouldn’t have ignored the fact she didn’t fit the rest of his criteria.

But they were already there, weren’t they?

“Open your mouth.”

The vaultie blinked, confusion spreading over her face like wildfire, but after a moment of hesitation, her lips parted.

“Very good,” he praised, his thumb gently sliding into her mouth to where the pad of it rested atop her tongue. “Now, close it.”

A red flush ran up her neck and face, but she obeyed without hesitation this time, closing her lips around his thumb; they were pressed outward just slightly due to the disturbance between them. But she never broke eye contact.

“Good girl,” he praised again. Something in her eyes changed at that—she enjoyed the praise. But from the look on her face, perhaps she didn’t even realize it. Not yet, at least. “Now… suck.”

The moment her cheeks caved just slightly, Maxson pressed his thumb down a bit harder on her tongue, causing her to suck a bit more, and he swept his own tongue along his lower lip.

“Very good girl,” he purred. “Do you know what a safe word is? You can just nod or shake your head.”

She nodded.

“Good. I’m assuming you don’t have one?”

Nora shook her head.

“That’s fine. I typically use _’cram.’_ Does that work for you?” When she nodded again, Maxson slowly started thrusting his thumb in and out of her mouth. “Good. These are typically used in situations regarding consent, but I want you to use this whenever you are extremely uncomfortable and need me to stop whatever I’m doing.”

A sort of panicked expression washed over her face. She seemed to display her emotions clearly, which he found beneficial.

“I don’t fuck around or play games unless that is previously agreed upon, but I need verbal cues. Using a safe word is the easiest way to do it.”

Parker nodded.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?” When she shook her head, he arched one eyebrow. “Speak your answer.”

“No, Sir,” she mumbled around his thumb. She sounded good with her mouth full.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pulling his thumb from between her lips and taking a step back. “Now,” a quick glance up and down her body was made, “Take your suit off.”

Another flush ran up her face and she tried to look down to see what she was doing as she quickly tugged the zipper down, but he wasn’t having that.

“Eyes on me,” he snapped, and Parker flicked her gaze back up to his. “Slowly.”

Her hand slowed while she pulled the zipper down, baring inch after inch of flesh that was hidden beneath the vault suit until it was completely unzipped, then pushing it off her shoulders and down to her hips and thighs—at least until it got stuck by her boots. A low curse escaped her before she knelt down and unlaced them, then kicked them and her suit off after, leaving her in a bra and panties.

But did she think she was allowed to leave those on?

“Bra and panties, too,” he said, still not looking anywhere but her eyes.

The vaultie bit her lip before reaching behind her and unclasping her bra, then slid it off her shoulders, tossing it into a pile with her suit and boots; her underwear was pushed down her hips just like her suit had been. And soon, she stood before him, bare and vulnerable.

Maxson finally broke eye contact as he started circling her, predatory, slowly and appreciatively looking her body up and down from every angle. Her hips and thighs were thick, proportionate to the size of her ass, and her breasts were more than a handful each as they hung low compared to how a prewar pinup girl’s might. She had fat on her stomach that pushed out above her underwear and stretch marks lined parts of the inside of her upper arms, as well as her breasts, thighs, and belly, some of them proof of previous weight changes while others of her past pregnancy. And thick, but light freckles covered her shoulders, arms, and chest, contrasting with the smaller, darker ones that were splashed across her face.

When he found himself back in front of her, his eyes raised to meet hers once more, finding a blush had crept up to her cheeks again. She was growing self-conscious under his stare, it seemed—but he had no idea why. She was gorgeous, her prewar body flush with pure, radiation-free genetics that would make his ancestors proud. But the shyness she showed in the bedroom didn’t match her personality outside of it. Then again, this was new to her; she’d never given away her control before, so she was nervous. He’d make sure she wouldn’t regret it.

“Good girl,” he praised, and she bit her lower lip in response. She certainly did enjoy the praise, which was good, because he’d dish it out as often as she earned it. Shrugging off his coat, he tossed it onto the table to his left before glancing her over once again. “Would you like to know what I’m going to do to you, Parker?” he asked, his voice low.

The Knight audibly swallowed but nodded, almost forgetting to follow it up with her verbal response. “Yes, Sir.”

Maxson moved toward her slowly, prowling like before. He could tell she was starting to feel even more vulnerable as she shifted from one foot to the other, her hands meeting in front of her belly and her fingers wringing. It was almost as if her fight or flight instinct was about to kick in—and that sent a jolt of heat through him, the predator inside showing its face.

“I’m going to sate your curiosity. You want to know how good I am with my mouth? I’ll show you,” he said as he reached her. One arm snaked around her waist as he grabbed a handful of her ass, pulling her body roughly against his. “And I’m going to give you a first-hand experience of what my beard feels like.”

Nora shivered against him, leaning her body into his own. “Please,” she whispered.

But that wasn’t good enough.

“Please what, Parker?” he asked, leaning down to place a gentle nip to her shoulder. Fuck, she was so _short._

“Please use your mouth on me, Sir.”

“Are you saying you want me to taste your cunt?”

A moan caught in her throat that he could just barely hear; she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very well. Lay on the bed on your back.”

When he let go of her, Nora was quick to move to the bed and lay on her back; as she did, the Elder undid his flight suit and pushed it down to his hips. He tied the arms off to keep it from going down any further despite the uncomfortable strain it was putting on his cock, and that left his torso in just a white undershirt, which he pulled off before tossing it onto the table with his coat and getting on his knees beside the bed, in front of her. He then reached out, grabbed her thighs, and yanked her to the edge of the bed even as she shrieked from surprise.

“Tell me what you want, Parker.”

“You, Sir,” she whispered.

Maxson leaned in to kiss and lick at the inside of her right thigh. “What about me?”

“I—I want you to fuck me. Please.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest from how she was just _begging_ him to fuck her; it vibrated into her thigh, making her shiver. “Mm, we’ll see. What else?”

“I want to cum.”

“How do you want me to make you cum?”

“I—” Parker moaned loudly when he bit into her thigh, arching her back and bundling the sheets into her fists.

“I asked you a question,” he reminded her once he once he let the skin fall from between his teeth.

“I—I want to feel your mouth on my pussy. I want you to lick me and t-taste m— _oh!”_

Arthur bit into her other thigh, and once he let go, he placed gentle kisses and licks to each bite mark. Both spots would bruise, undoubtedly.

“How bad do you want it?”

The vaultie’s legs shifted, her calves reaching the back of his head as she tried to pull him closer to her—to force his face between her legs. She was getting impatient but that just made it all the sweeter.

“Bad,” Parker whispered, the word barely audible.

“It doesn’t sound like it.” The Elder placed another bite on her left thigh, closer to her core, but softer than the first two. Another moan escaped her lips as she wiggled before him, wanting more of his touch.

“Please, Sir. I want you so bad. Please touch me. Please make me cu— _oh, god!”_

Arthur’s tongue slid up her folds, the tip of it then prodding between them once he reached her clit and flicking against it a few times while he pinned her thighs to the bed, spreading her wide open. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling quickly as he took her clit between his lips and sucked—hard.

Nora’s moans filled the small room, echoing off the metal walls. Whether they went any further than that, he didn’t much care; it wasn’t unusual for him to bed someone, and no one really cared if he did so long as he was careful not to get the person he was fucking pregnant unless he was married to them. Then again, making someone scream and moan so late at night probably wasn’t appreciated. But the walls would muffle most of it.

Her clit slid from his mouth as one of his hands came up, fingers spreading her open a bit more while he took a second to admire the way her cunt glistened with her slick, almost begging him to taste and fuck her. Hell, the way his cock was aching in his suit almost had him climbing up her body and fucking her right then and there, making her cum be damned.

Swirling the flat of his tongue around her clit, the hand that was spreading her open slid down a bit more so his middle finger slid into her, straight to the last knuckle. Fuck, she was _tight._

“Oh, god. _Fuck,”_ she whined, her hips bucking against his hand and mouth. He kept his tongue moving on her clit, sucking it back into his mouth again and nibbling on it as he pumped his middle finger in and out before also adding his ring finger, slowly working it in before he was able to fuck her on both fingers hard enough that the sound of his hand hitting her pussy was loud enough to be heard.

One of her hands grasped the bedsheets but the other had snaked its way down to his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair. Normally, he wouldn’t have let her touch him yet— _especially_ not pulling his hair—but since she was new to this, he let it slide. She’d learn soon enough.

Another nip to her clit and a crook of his fingers did her in as she keened, his fingertips rubbing against the internal bundle of nerves, helping her ride out the waves of her orgasm as his tongue gently lapped it all up.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Her orgasm was incredible and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had one quite like it. Nate wasn’t much for giving oral, but Maxson… well, he was fucking _enthusiastic_ about it.

And if he fucked anywhere near as good as he ate pussy?

He started placing gentle kisses up her body, beginning just above her clit, trailing them up her stomach, between her breasts, along the column of her throat, and then stopping right on her pulse point—where he bit down hard. Nora couldn’t help but groan, her eyes rolling up and closing.

She wanted _more._

“Fuck, _please._ I want—I _need_ more.”

A low noise rumbled from his chest, vibrating into her own as he was settled atop her. The bulge in his flight suit was pressing into the meat on the inside of her thigh, and she spread her legs to let him slip between them comfortably, wishing he’d just taken the damn thing off. But he released her skin, gently placing a few kisses to the mark.

“You’re tight,” he said quietly while grinding himself against her; _fuck,_ his cock was pressing right against her clit.

Her hands found his shoulder blades and she held onto him, her eyes closing and head tipping back as he dragged his tongue up from her collarbone to her jaw. “I have— _mmmfuck_ —I have small hips. And it’s—it’s been a while.” Nora rolled her hips against him. “Please, sir. I—I need you to fuck me.”

But just as her hands started sliding down his back, running over the ridges and trenches of scars as she tried to reach down to where his jumpsuit was tied off at his hips, he asked a question that had her crinkling her nose.

“When’s the last time you fucked anyone, hm?” Kisses were placed along her throat, his tongue dragging along her skin before his lips closed around each spot.

Oh, come on. Why did he need to know that? He knew her backstory regarding her being prewar, about the vault, her husband’s death, and her son being kidnapped—so why did it matter when she last had sex? 

Nora dipped her head, trying to capture his lips in a kiss, but when he pulled far enough away to avoid it and so he was out of her reach, she let out a disappointed whine, followed by a huff; his mouth returned to her collarbone. “Before the bombs,” she admitted in defeat.

But Maxson almost froze atop her, if only for a brief second.

“Then no,” he said flatly.

That was… unexpected. Her eyebrows pulled together and her jaw dropped as she stared at him while he pulled away from her chest. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

The Elder pushed off the bed to stand and made his way over to the desk where he grabbed a bottle of liquor, pouring some into two glasses. “I apologize, Parker, but I didn’t realize that was the situation, otherwise I wouldn’t have, ah… approached you. I’m not sure you want me to be the first person you have sex with after the death of your husband.”

Wow, what the fuck? That… really fucking hurt. Nora sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She tore her gaze from him but could see how he took a sip of the brown liquid in one of the glasses before approaching her and holding the other one out, offering it. She took it, but didn’t drink any. 

“I know how this goes,” he continued as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You lose the love of your life and find emotional refuge in the first person to offer it to you.” He downed the rest of his drink, clearing his throat and setting the glass on the nightstand. “That person cannot be me. I cannot offer you that kind of support.”

She was insulted and she hoped that was fucking obvious to him.

Nora downed the liquor in her own glass—whiskey—in one gulp. “You think too highly of yourself, _Elder,”_ she spat before thrusting the now-empty glass into his hand. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Quickly, the vaultie stood, grabbed her clothes, and pulled them on, but Maxson did nothing to stop her. Before she left, she hesitated at the door, as if she wanted to say something or was waiting for _him_ to say something, but when neither of them did, she silently slipped out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures of Nora can be found [here](https://imgur.com/a/XrgNsdx)


	7. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You wear that stupid pirate hat—”
> 
> “Revolutionary hat,” he corrected.
> 
>  _”—Pirate hat_ even when you’re asleep. It wouldn’t surprise me if you kept it on during sex, too.”
> 
> “Only one way to find out, kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 15, 2020

“Try again. Prr-id-win. Prydwen.”

“Prydwing.”

Danse sighed heavily, becoming increasingly frustrated with the vault dweller who was trotting along next to him as he brought a metal-clad hand up to rub down his face. “Knight Parker, I am unsure how to make it much easier than this.”

“I’m sorry, Danse,” Parker said innocently, pushing her lower lip into a pout. “I’m trying, really! Just… one more time. Please? I’ll get it right, I promise!”

The Paladin pursed his lips. “Alright, fine, but this is the last time. Say each part after me. Ready?” Parker nodded. “Prr—”

“Prr—” she echoed.

“—id—”

“—id—”

“—win.”

“—win.”

“Good,” he praised. “Now, put it together. Prydwen.”

“Preedween.”

It wasn’t often Danse grew angry or agitated, but Knight Parker had the tendency to really get under his skin; he was ready to explode into a million tiny pieces. How could she have such _difficulty_ saying such a simple word!? This was ridiculous! Either she was not as intelligent as he’d initially thought—which he hoped was not the case—or she was being insubordinate. And Danse knew the word _’insubordinate’_ meant nothing to her considering nearly _everything_ she did was practically insubordination, so it wouldn’t have surprised him if she was doing this on purpose.

He opened his mouth, ready to scold her for not pronouncing the ship’s name correctly but was cut off by Cait behind them.

“Oi, soldier boy.”

Danse shot a look back at the Irish woman, arching an eyebrow.

“You do know she’s fuckin’ with ya, right? Or are ya just that daft?”

Parker gasped and turned around to look at the Irish woman, walking backward—which was dangerous, because with the amount of bad luck she had and just how _clumsy_ she was, she’d probably trip over a tiny rock and impale herself on a piece of wood—as she put a hand on her chest. “Cait, how _dare_ you! I would _never_ mess with Danse—”

“Paladin Danse,” he corrected; she ignored him.

“—that way. He’s my superior officer and my sponsor and I respect him far too much to ever even _think_ about toying with him like that.”

Cait narrowed her eyes while Danse struggled to determine which of the two women he should side with. They both had good points, really: he was Parker’s superior and sponsor, but she also had the type of personality—as enraging as it was—to mess with him.

“I’m just struggling to say the word, like the people who can’t say _’aluminum’_ or _’cinnamon.’_ You can’t fault me for that.”

The Irish woman rolled her eyes and Parker gave a playful wink—one Danse didn’t catch—before turning back around to look where she was walking. Good, at least he didn’t need to watch her steps _for_ her now. 

But the thought of whether she really could say the ship’s name still hung in his mind like a bloatfly buzzing in the background. “Knight,” he began, fully intending to get to the bottom of the pronunciation well; but, once more, he was cut off, this time by the very person he was trying to address.

“Oh, look at that! Goodneighbor! Looks like we’re here!” the vaultie exclaimed in an almost sing-songy voice.

Her tone sounded suspiciously relieved as if she were glad to be free of the conversation, but the Paladin made a mental note to ask her the question later. Parker opened the door to the town and ducked inside, Cait right behind her, followed by Danse, who held the door open for Dogmeat before shutting it behind him. When he turned around, though, he heard Parker take a deep inhale through her nose.

“Ahhhh.” She noisily released the breath. “I love the smell of piss and beer so early in the morning.”

Danse crinkled his nose in disgust. “It is not morning and that is a horrid smell.”

“Yeah, well, whatever,” she replied, waving her hand at him dismissively. “You two head over to the Memory Den and I’ll meet you there. Nick should already be waiting.”

The fiery redhead—Cait, not Parker—put her hands on her hips, clearly unhappy with the order, and Danse thought about mimicking the movement because he really didn’t like it, either. He actually disliked the fact his subordinate was ordering him around at all.

“And jus’ where are ya goin’?” Cait asked.

“To see everyone’s favorite ghoul mayor. You gotta stay with Danse—”

“Paladin Danse.”

“—To keep him in line, otherwise Hancock will make me clean up whatever mess he makes and I am _not_ looking forward to that. Not today.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

The mayor was in the statehouse, as expected, feet kicked up on the table and crossed at the ankles while he held a jet inhaler between his lips. He was taking a deep inhale of the chem when Nora ascended the circular stairs and entered the room, and once those black, watery eyes locked onto her, he pulled the inhaler from his mouth and allowed a toothy grin to replace its presence.

“Well, well, well.” His deep, raspy tone easily filled the room and made her grin in return. “If it isn’t my favorite vault dweller.”

“You do know I never actually _dwelled_ in the vault, right?” she asked while crossing the room to where he sat. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t even know any other vault dwellers, which means I _have_ to be your favorite.”

The ghoul grinned wider, waving his hand in the air as if he were waving her words away. “You’ll always be my favorite, sister.”

Nora climbed onto the couch beside him, making a show of ‘clumsily’ sliding over his lap to sit on his other side—as well as being sure to shove her breasts in his face because teasing him was far too much fun when he made it so damn easy. “Whoops, my bad,” she mumbled as she plopped down next to him, her legs stretching out across his lap.

Hancock only grunted in response, but once she was situated on the couch, he looked up to the bowler hat atop her head, then glanced down to her face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I see you’re wearing that stupid hat again,” he remarked.

“You, of all people, do not get to comment on my hat.”

The ghoul leaned forward and snatched a lighter and pack of cigarettes from the table his feet were resting on before settling back against the couch. He slipped one of the sticks from the pack and placed it between his lips, flipping the lighter open with a flick of his wrist, then set the flame at the end of the cigarette, inhaling to catch it alight. It reminded Nora of times before the war when Nate occasionally smoked before she made him quit, however rare that was.

“You wear that stupid pirate hat—”

“Revolutionary hat,” he corrected.

 _”—Pirate hat_ even when you’re asleep. It wouldn’t surprise me if you kept it on during sex, too.”

“Only one way to find out, kitten.”

A mischievous grin suddenly stretched across her face.

The vaultie pulled her legs from atop him while he took a drag of his cigarette, then shifted so she was climbing into his lap, straddling his thighs, being sure to press her body firmly against his. The mayor’s hands instinctively went to her hips as she reached forward to gently pluck the cigarette from between his lips. Bringing it to her own, the vault dweller took a deep drag—never actually _inhaling,_ just sucking—before removing it and mostly closing the gap between their faces, her lips less than an inch from his, and exhaling the smoke into his face, directed toward his mouth.

Hancock greedily inhaled it.

“Mmm.” The soft noise escaped her throat as she ground herself against him, feeling his growing erection so close to her core. She took another drag, repeating the process of exhaling the smoke toward his mouth as he breathed it in. “You think about fucking me a lot, John?”

“You already know I do,” he answered, his palms sliding back to take handfuls of her ass, groping through her vault suit.

Nora returned the cigarette to his lips, gently placing it between them when they were parted. “Well, that’s the only place it’s ever gonna happen: your thoughts,” she whispered before pushing off him to stand.

The mayor let out a frustrated groan, trying to keep his hands on her any way he could until she was out of his reach, then dropping one to his lap and the other to his groin, not even trying to hide how he was rubbing himself through his pants. “Fuckin’ tease,” he grumbled.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Upon her arrival to the Memory Den, Nora found her companions in the basement. Danse stood near the door, his dark eyes stuck on Nick like he was waiting for the synth to self-destruct. Nick, however, didn’t seem to care and was speaking to a woman known as Doctor Amari. Cait, on the other hand, sat on the couch with Dogmeat’s head in her lap, both snoozing away.

“Didn’t start without me, did you?” the vaultie asked after entering the room.

“Hey, doll,” Nick greeted, his yellow eyes diverting from Amari to Nora. “You’re the life of the party, so you know we could never do that.”

Nora grinned at the smooth-talking detective, but he seemed to be able to see straight through her façade; anxiety was bubbling beneath her skin about what they would find—she didn’t know what to expect. No one did.

“I’m not sure we should have so many people in here while we perform the, ah… procedure,” Amari voiced.

The vaultie just gave a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. I trust these three—uh, four—with my life.” A quick glance was made to the still-sleeping Cait and Dogmeat, then to Nick, who just gave her a nod; but once she looked to Danse, she saw surprise on his face.

What was it with big, dumb men and being so goddamn adorable?

“What’s wrong, Danse?”

“Oh, uh. Nothing, Knight.”

Yeah, Nora didn’t believe that for one second, but she let it slide and turned back around to face Amari. They went over a few technical issues about the procedure and was told it was risky—never done before—but that Nick could be used as a sort of host. Really, that made her feel a bit better about the danger to herself but worse overall, and especially _guilty as fuck._ She didn’t want to risk Nick’s life; the man was kind and sweet and was actually helping people in this fucked-up world. If something happened to him because of this… she’d never forgive herself.

But, of course, Nick being Nick, he made her feel better by saying he was doing it for her, her husband, and her son—for her _family._

Eventually, Nora got into the pod. Her eyes flicked between Cait, who was now awake; Nick, who was in his own pod; and Danse, who had a worried expression on his face. And goddamn if that didn’t make her feel even guiltier.

No, she couldn’t let him look so worried. She had to make it better somehow; make his expression change to something else.

“Danse,” she called as the glass was slowly closing around her; the soldier immediately stepped forward.

“Knight?”

“I just want you to know that Elder Maxson ate me out and it was fantastic.” A wide, toothy grin spread across her face as his jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide in horror, a red flush quickly rising up his neck and cheeks. Cait burst into laughter in the background, and even Amari choked on whatever she was drinking. “See you on the other side, Paladin,” Nora said with a salute.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Kellogg’s brain was fucking _horrible;_ she felt like she was watching one of those movies that tried to make people sympathize with serial killers and rapists because they had bad childhoods or something. Yeah, his life fucking sucked. His dad was abusive, he lost his family and everything he loved—but Nora’s life was no fucking picnic, either, and she didn’t turn out to be a goddamn serial killing mercenary who worked for an organization that kidnapped infants.

Maybe that was where the money was, though. Who fucking knew?

Not Nora.

But what Nora _did_ know was the second she came out of the damn sleep machine, she couldn’t fucking _breathe._ Her head was spinning, her chest was tight, her heart was thumping, and she felt like she’d just jumped in her neighbor’s pool on a hot summer night from how drenched in sweat she was.

The glass of the pod rose above her and she shoved herself out of the seat, gasping for air and falling to her hands and knees on the hard floor below. When she blinked, the red and white tile turned grey, puddles of water all around her, cryopods lining the walls—but when she blinked a second time, everything was back to normal and she was in Doctor Amari’s office again.

“God, Nate. No, no, no,” she cried.

“What’s happening, doctor?” a deep, baritone voice asked. But it was distant, like it came from another room. Another dimension.

“You saw the same thing I did. She had to watch her husband die and her baby get stolen all over again. She’s grieving.”

A hand was placed on her back, softly stroking up and down her spine as she bawled on the floor. “He’s gone. They’re both gone. I’ll—I’ll never find him. _Fuck,_ it should have been me.” Every thought she’d pushed to the back of her mind and ignored after escaping her icy tomb was finally coming out all at once; she couldn’t control it. She’d tried to bottle them up and cope without actually having to deal with them, but it only came back to bite her in the ass.

A hissing noise came from the background, still sounding just as distant as the voices had, and a couple seconds later, strong arms wrapped around her as she was pulled against a warm, broad chest; the only thing Nora could do was curl her body into the arms of her protector.


	8. Intrusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, if you’ll excuse me, big guy,” she said to Winlock as she leaned up on her tiptoes, her voice dropping to a loud whisper so only he and Barnes could hear, “I’m gonna go fuck that cutie over there until I can’t feel my legs.” The vaultie then dismissively patted Winlock’s chest before lowering back down and pushing past him and moving over to MacCready. Once there, she grabbed onto the front of MacCready’s coat with her free hand and pulled him into a rough kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 17, 2020

After reliving the loss of her family through the eyes of the man who took them from her, everything had gone dark. The next thing Nora knew, she was waking up in Goodneighbor’s Statehouse curled up on the couch with Dogmeat lounging at her feet. Her head felt like a clogged pipe, as if a mirelurk queen had decided to lay a nest of eggs in her brain—how did they even manage to do that, anyway? Lay eggs inside pipes? Weren’t they too big? That never made any sense—while her vision was fuzzy.

At first, it felt like she was dreaming, and after quietly groaning, rolling over, and blinking a few times, the first thing she saw was Danse’s fuzzy face when he knelt by her size. Yeah, this had to be a dream.

Nora lazily reached forward and flopped her hand onto his face, patting around to feel his features to try to make sure he was really there.

“Knight Parker,” the Paladin mumbled against her palm, the sound muffled.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Danse,” she muttered while pulling her hand away. “Thought I was dreaming.” Yep, he was real, and so was that beautiful voice of his.

“Do you often grope other people’s faces in your dreams?”

“Mm, no. Just yours.”

“Perhaps you should speak to Knight-Captain Cade about that.”

His quips were unexpected, but they brought a tired smile to her face; she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “How long was I out?”

“The rest of the night and most of the day. The sun will be setting soon.”

“Where’s Cait?”

“At the bar, I believe. And the sy—I mean, _Nick_ —went back to Diamond City to meet a woman… _he_ mentioned. I do not recall her name.”

“Oh. I see.” Nora slowly sat up with Danse’s help, his hand on her back. She ran her fingers through her hair—at least until she realized a vital item was missing from atop her head. “Where’s my hat?”

The Paladin reached behind him and across the small coffee table to the couch he’d originally been sitting on, plucking the bowler hat from atop the cushion, then held it out to her. She gladly took it with a quiet _’thank you’_ before nestling it atop her head.

“You know,” came a familiar, raspy voice from the other side of the room, “You never did tell me what bet you lost to the robot in order for you to be wearing that stupid thing.”

Nora startled at the discovery of a third person in the room, visibly jumping and putting a hand to her chest as if she was about to have a heart attack. Hancock was apparently sitting at his desk until he found the most opportune time to make his presence known by scaring the fuck out of her. “Jesus, Hancock. How long have you been sitting there?”

“Since you were brought in, sister. Same as your soldier boy there. Now, what bet did you lose?” he asked again.

A brief look to Dance was made, noting he had one eyebrow raised. He didn’t know about the bet, either, and there was a reason for that; but he was aware that bets were made considering their first interaction regarding her hat. She returned her gaze to Hancock before clearing her throat. “Codsworth and I made a bet on whether Danse actually has hair under his hood. I lost.” She didn’t dare look at her sponsor again, but she already knew what his expression was.

“You’ve never even seen me without my hood on, so how would you know?” the Paladin asked.

Nora cleared her throat again. “I… may have asked Haylen.”

There was a snorting laugh from Hancock’s direction and the mayor pulled his feet from his desk, noisily planting them on the ground and leaning forward. “So, which is it, soldier boy? Hair or no hair? And I mean on top of your head.”

Danse scowled at the ghoul before reaching up to pull the hood from his head like he was revealing a huge secret—and, to be fair, he was. Hell, she started feeling like they were on an old prewar game show and she’d just won a huge reward and was now waiting for some stereotypical announcer voice to start speaking to her.

_Great job, participant! Now, let’s see your prize! It looks like you’ve won—_

A thick black mess of hair was revealed. Danse ran his fingers through it so that it wasn’t matted down anymore, but both Nora and Hancock were grinning at the sight.

_—some nice fucking hair!_

“Wow, would you look at that,” the vaultie said as she reached forward, having no problem invading her sponsor’s personal space and running her fingers through the dark locks. “It’s so… _thick.”_

Danse’s face turned tato red, and Hancock took that opportunity to pounce like he’d been waiting for it his entire life. “She’s talkin’ about your hair, soldier boy. Not your dick.”

Well, at least she didn’t have to break up a fight _yesterday._

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

It wasn’t an easy task breaking up a brawl between two hard-headed men, especially when those two hard-headed men despised everything about one another. And especially when one of them was built like a damn _marble statue_ while the other was constantly taunting and mocking and making things worse. And _especially_ when either of them could have just picked her up and moved her out of the way.

But she managed it, and both Hancock and Danse walked away with well-deserved busted lips.

No regrets.

Now, she was in the Third Rail looking for Cait. But, apparently, Cait was chatting up some pretty woman in a red dress, and it looked like the two were getting along just fine. The vaultie wasn’t about to break that up; hell, if her friend was gonna get laid tonight, then good for her. Now, if only _she_ were so lucky.

Traversing the bar, Nora ordered a bottle of whiskey from the Mister Handy that looked and sounded like a drunken Codsworth, making her miss the robot butler’s company. But then Charlie tried to hire her to do some dirty work and ruined the moment, which was completely rude and unnecessary; she politely declined the offer before excusing herself from the bar, really just wanting to get away from him before he tried to change her mind. Again. Instead, she decided to take a look around the bar itself. Despite having been in Goodneighbor numerous times, she’d never visited the Third Rail before—always avoided it, really—but now she was curious how the old subway station was being utilized as a place for drifters to get away from the problems of life with shot glasses and good music, where they could drown their sorrows in liquor and pretend the world wasn’t completely fucked.

Most doors either wouldn’t open, led to dead ends, or just weren’t interesting. But the one that had a shiny _’VIP Lounge’_ sign above it might as well have said _’Nora, Come Here’_ instead, because she assumed anything that said VIP also included her. Why wouldn’t it? Was she not VIP enough? Of course she was. VIP was her middle fucking name—Nora VIP Parker. Nora VIParker. Or… something. Whatever.

However, when she walked through the doorway and into the red-lighted room, she overheard voices—threatening ones—and that was just too good to miss out on. She stuck around, because if Nora was anything, it was a nosy little shit.

“Can’t say I’m surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready.”

Peeking around the corner, the vaultie spotted three men—two standing and one sitting—inside the room. From the tone of voices, none of them were very happy. 

“I was wondering how long it would take your mutts to track me down, Winlock. It’s been… what, almost three months? Don’t tell me you’re getting rusty. You wanna take this outside?”

“It ain’t like that,” the first guy said. “I’m just here to deliver a message.”

Nora fucking _loved_ messages. Well, when they were meant for other people, she did. She wasn’t fond of receiving messages, herself. Usually it meant bad news, like, _‘your mother wants to talk to you,’_ or, _’your husband has to go on tour again,’_ or, _’sorry, baby, there is no more chocolate at the grocery store.’_ Just a bunch of bullshit.

Threats were passed back and forth and she was almost salivating at the drama that was unfolding before her. Of course, that was mostly due to the bottle of whiskey she was tightly grasping, as well as the craving for any type of drama that wasn’t her own. Any sort of escape from her own life sounded great. And this? Well, this was just _fantastic._

But, wait. _MacCready._ She knew someone with that name once. Maybe? It might have been in high school. Was that their last name or first name? God, it was so long ago, she couldn’t remember. She was so fucking _old_ now. How old was she, anyway? Wait, how old was she when she stepped into the vault before the bombs? What _year_ was it, even? Whatever. Didn’t matter. The now-quarter empty bottle of whiskey was sure helping her forget all that useless nonsense.

Two of the men separated and began to exit the VIP lounge, and Nora didn’t even realize she’d stopped paying attention until the larger one had blatantly run into her, nearly knocking her onto her ass and almost making her drop her bottle of liquor. 

“Wooooooow,” she drawled. “That was suuuuper rude.”

“Watch where you’re going, girlie.”

“I was literally just standin’ here,” she retorted.

“Then maybe you should learn your place and move when a man is walking toward you,” Winlock growled. “I’d be happy to show you your place. I’m sure you’d like that.” He stepped forward, towering over her, but Nora just stared up at him with slightly-reddened cheeks from the liquor.

“Yeaaaah, how about no. If _anyone’s_ gonna show me my place, it’s gonna be my date over there.” She motioned to MacCready, who glanced behind him before looking back at her with raised eyebrows. “Right, babe?”

Winlock and Barnes turned to look at the MacCready—Barnes looking dumbfounded and Winlock looking irritated—but MacCready finally allowed a small smirk to cross his lips. “Sure thing, hotshot.”

When they turned back to her, Nora innocently smiled up at the two men. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, big guy,” she said to Winlock as she leaned up on her tiptoes, her voice dropping to a loud whisper so only he and Barnes could hear, “I’m gonna go fuck that cutie over there until I can’t feel my legs.” The vaultie then dismissively patted Winlock’s chest before lowering back down and pushing past him and moving over to MacCready. Once there, she grabbed onto the front of MacCready’s coat with her free hand and pulled him into a rough kiss.

Needless to say, he was surprised—they all were, including Nora—but his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her close to his body, regardless; and being tipsy and horny and touch-starved meant that action was enough to send a wave of heat through her that settled between her thighs while a quiet moan escaped her. Nora’s hand slid up from his coat lapel and into his hair, fingers threading into the brown locks as she knocked his hat off.

She really had a thing for touching hair today, apparently.

But it was obvious Winlock wouldn’t leave it at that because men like him didn’t just drop it when they were rejected or when someone talked down to them; she’d seen it countless times before the war with her friends.

As soon as Nora pulled away from MacCready, Winlock took two strides to reach them before grabbing onto her upper arm, his mouth opening to say something, likely to threaten her—but he didn’t get any further than that. The vaultie allowed the whiskey bottle that was still in her hand to slide down to where she was grasping the neck, then swung it around, slamming it into the side of his head so the glass shattered against his skull. The sound of the collision echoed throughout the lounge and chunks of glass went flying into Winlock’s hair and all over the floor, some sticking to his face and the side of his head, as well.

“Jesus fuck!” he screamed, one hand moving to the side of his head in an attempt to stop some of the blood from pouring down his face.

“Don’t ever put your fucking hands on me again,” she hissed. 

But when his eyes raised to her once more, clearly filled with rage, she knew he wasn’t done; and rather than letting him make another move, Nora screamed. Loud. On the top of her lungs. Ham was in the room within seconds, already on his way from the sound of a bottle smashing, gun aimed at Winlock as he roughly escorted the two men from the bar.

Perfect. She’d have to give the ghoul a tip or something.

Shaking her hand free of any remaining liquid on it, the vaultie turned back to face MacCready, taking note he stood there with his mouth open, jaw having dropped probably some time ago.

“Look, lady, that was badass, but if you’re preaching about the Atom or looking for a friend, you’ve got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun… then maybe we can talk.”

Nora looked him over, sizing him up. A hired gun? Like a mercenary? Like Kellogg. The word and name almost made her shudder and she wished she hadn’t broken the rest of that bottle of whiskey so she could finish it off.

But…

“That coat is impractical,” she blurted out after looking him over again.

“That hat is impractical,” he retorted.

Nora pursed her lips. “It’s missing an arm. How would it even keep you warm?”

“You’re wearing a bowler hat that offers literally no protection to your head.”

“Your hat offers no protection, either.”

“Mine holds ammo,” he said as he pointed to the two bullets stuck in its band, “And it looks cool.”

“Mine looks adorable on robots.”

“And yet you are not a robot.”

Alright, so he was quick on his feet. She could work with that.

And the guy was cute, she had to admit. Average height, skinny— _really skinny_ —with a few layers of clothing that would take far too long and be much too annoying to take off. He had a goatee, which, she had to admit, was a style of facial she was never fond of, but it fit him. And his voice was nice as fuck; she could listen to him speak all damn night.

But bright blue eyes peered down at her from beneath his hat, which he’d had to pick up off the floor, and the color almost reminded her of Maxson’s. The mere thought of the Elder made anger bubble in her gut as she remembered the last thing that he’d said to her.

_“I know how this goes. You lose the love of your life and find emotional refuge in the first person to offer it to you. That person cannot be me. I cannot offer you that kind of support.”_

No, he was wrong.

And she’d fucking prove it.

“I told that guy I was gonna fuck you until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore, so what do I gotta do to make that happen?” Nora asked, putting her hands on her hips, waiting expectantly; but it seemed he wasn’t _that_ quick on his feet because his mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were at a loss for words.

“Oh, uh… I…” MacCready reached up, rubbing the back of his neck almost nervously. Apparently, she needed to take the initiative.

“Should I rent the room, or you?”

“Uh… you, I guess,” he finally answered; Nora grinned.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

The two had went up the hotel steps, planting sloppy kisses along the way. MacCready held a new bottle of whiskey in one hand while he was tugging off his scarf with the other, seeming to have a bit of trouble getting it off; while he was preoccupied, Nora turned away to unlock the room door, pushing it open. She intended to slip inside first but, being as clumsy as usual—if not more than usual because of drinking—she dropped the key right when she pulled it out of the lock, so the mercenary stepped around her and went inside first as she bent over to snatch it off the ground. But just as she started to step inside, a familiar baritone voice called to her from behind.

“Knight Parker?”

Nora stiffened and spun around to peer at Danse, being sure to push the door shut while she was inside as much as possible, leaving it open only wide enough to show her face while she hid her body at an angle behind the barrier. The Paladin stood in front of his own open bedroom door—because of course he wasn’t going to stay another night in the Statehouse, especially since she wasn’t there—and stared at her, wearing a pair of loose pants and a white t-shirt that hugged his frame, meaning he was probably going to bed soon. The cut in his lip was still fresh, so he clearly hadn’t used a stimpack for it; she almost felt bad for punching him, but both he and Hancock had deserved it.

“Danse,” she greeted. MacCready came up behind her, remaining behind the door and completely out of view, and started groping her ass and hips. He’d stripped all the clothing from his torso, as well as his shoes, and was just left in his pants.

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior at the Statehouse. I know you have been under a lot of stress lately,” he admitted.

The mercenary started unzipping her vault suit, and it was only fortunate for her that she’d kept her body out of the Paladin’s view, because her new lover was not wasting a fucking _second._

“And I think it was inappropriate for me to add to that stress.”

“I appreciate and accept your apology, Danse. Thank yo— _u!”_ Nora’s voice went up a notch as the mercenary slid a hand between her legs, his deft fingers rubbing against her folds beneath her vault suit and underwear; one finger slipped into her entrance.

“Are you alright, Knight Parker?” Danse asked, stepping forward a little.

“Yes, mhm, yep, I’m f-fine, Danse. Thank you for asking. I—I…” she stumbled over her words and let out a heavy exhale as the finger inside her was slowly moving in and out. “I’m just v-very tired. I’ll, uh, _mmmm…_ I’ll see you in the m-morning, okay?”

“Oh. Alright,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed.

If Nora was in her right mind—meaning if she wasn’t buzzed by whiskey and didn’t have someone else’s fingers in her pussy—she would have noticed the disappointment in her sponsor’s voice. But she didn’t, because she wasn’t.

“Goodnight, Danse.”

“Goodnight, Parker.”

The bedroom door shut and the vaultie turned to glare at MacCready, who just grinned widely at her. He kept his hand between her legs as they started moving toward the desk that sat on the other end of the room, and his free hand began pulling off her suit completely, peeling it down her hips and legs, then throwing it off to the side after she kicked off her boots.

“So. ‘Parker,’ huh?”

She hadn’t told him her name, and he hadn’t asked—she only knew _his_ name because she’d overheard it.

“Nora,” she corrected. “Only certain people get away with calling me ‘Parker.’”

The vaultie pulled him in for a kiss, crashing their lips together in the same way she had in the Third Rail. It was then the mercenary started working a second finger into her. “Jesus, you’re so fu—I mean, so frickin’ tight,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“Shut up and take your pants off.”

He obliged, and while he was busy doing that, she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, throwing it off to the side, followed by sliding her underwear down her legs and throwing them somewhere in the room, as well. Hoisting herself up onto the desk, MacCready had his pants off and was standing naked in front of her by the time she was settled.

Nora let her eyes drop at the same time as his, and they both took a few moments to admire each other’s bodies. His was so different than hers—he’d clearly spent his entire life in the wasteland; his body was thin, ribs showing from malnutrition, scars riddling his skin. Hers, on the other hand, still held most of its prewar shape and only a few scars were on her body from the past few months, other than her stretch marks, of course, and a few scars she’d gotten from before the bombs.

They were so physically different while their situations were so similar, yet they had no idea.

Nora bit her bottom lip before spreading her legs for him, and he took the invite by moving himself between her thighs, pressing their bodies together. Their lips met again in another sloppy kiss and he gently tugged her to the edge of the desk, his cock pressing against the meat of her inner thigh until she reached down to guide him to her core; he moved slowly, seeming to realize she’d need time to adjust since she was so tight even when he was fingering her. His hips moved back and forth, and each time he pushed in, he did so just a little bit more than the last until he was finally hilted and panting against her shoulder while she was panting close to his ear.

Her legs wrapped around his waist after a few moments, pulling him closer, telling him it was okay to move, and he took that opportunity to start slowly thrusting in and out—only pulling out halfway at first before pushing back in. Nora moaned softly against his ear, and she felt how it sent a shudder through his body. Maybe it had been a while since he’d last had sex, too?

MacCready’s pace started to speed up, and her moaning increased in frequency, though she still tried to muffle it against his neck and shoulder. One of his hands lowered between them and his thumb started rubbing small circles around her clit.

“Wait,” she whispered, and the mercenary froze, pulling back enough to look at her questioningly. “What’s your name? Like, I know that guy called you MacCready, but is it what you go by?”

He grinned then and leaned down to kiss her jaw. “Well, some people call me MacCready.” He trailed kisses down to her neck. “Some people call me Mac.” They were trailed further to her shoulder. “Others call me RJ.” Gently, he bit at the skin on her shoulder before placing a few kisses there. “Take your pick.”

“What about _’asshole’?”_ she asked almost breathlessly.

“You weren’t supposed to know about that one,” Mac murmured against her skin as he started moving his hips and thumb again.

“To be fair, I think that one was the most obvious,” she said before tipping her head back, a low moan escaping her.

MacCready started moving faster, moaning softly against her shoulder once more as their hips slapped together. “Well, you’ll have to decide which one you— _mmm_ —which one you want to scream before we’re done here,” he said between panting breaths. 

Nora pushed away from him, separating their chests as she laid back on the desk, spreading her legs wider. Mac took that as an invitation to thrust harder, the slaps of their hips growing louder. God, it felt so fucking good. It’d been so long since she’d been fucked—since before she gave birth to Shaun.

No, she couldn’t think about that now.

“Talk to me, smartass,” she demanded.

“And here I thought you— _mmm_ —didn’t like my smart mouth.”

“I only like it when it’s— _godyes_ —saying dirty things to me.”

Nora arched her back as MacCready put his free hand on her thigh, pushing it upward to give him a better angle so he could push into her deeper. “Sorry to break it to you, but I’m not great at dirty talk. Just sarcasm.”

“We’ll have to— _mmm_ —we’ll have to work on that, won’t we?”

He started stroking her clit faster just as he changed his pace of thrusting—pulling out slowly and thrusting into her hard and fast, trying to hit that sensitive spot inside her.

And goddamn if it didn’t work.

Nora gasped and it was followed up with a _very loud_ moan that she was only able to muffle by clasping a hand over her mouth, but not before some of it escaped. It only made the mercenary grin wider, and he kept repeating the motion, trying to pull that same noise from her again and again.

“Oh, yeah? Looks like I found somethin’, huh?”

She was so fucking close, right on the goddamn tipping point.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Something was wrong. She’d yelled moments ago as if she were in pain—he’d heard it through the walls and across the hallway, all the way in his room. Something was _definitely_ wrong. Danse had risen from his bed and padded his way down the hall, only one door down and across the way, before standing outside Nora’s rented room. He listened, trying to see if he heard her yell in pain again, but what else he heard unnerved him.

It wasn’t Nora’s voice—it was a _man’s_ voice. He couldn’t quite make out what the man said, but it was making Danse worry, and he needed to make sure his Knight was okay.

“Parker?” he called out, then listened, waiting for an answer. She didn’t reply, but he heard some whispers. One was her voice, he knew that, but the other was the man’s. He still couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but he’d caught a few words from their sentences.

“… the door, right?”

“… no idea… stop….”

Was she telling the man to stop doing something? The Paladin furrowed his eyebrows, worry seeping through his pores as he wrung at his shirt. He had to protect his brothers and sisters, and after what happened yesterday? Now, she was drunk and _clearly_ distraught—considering how she’d been acting earlier—so something had to be wrong. What if someone was hurting her?

Danse tensed his jaw before taking a deep breath and reaching for the knob and turning it; the door was unlocked, so he pushed it open.

But this was not a sight he wanted to see. This was a bad idea. He immediately regretted his decision.

He could only see Nora’s shins as they were wrapped around the bare body of a naked man who was… well, having sex with her. At first, Danse thought maybe the act wasn’t consensual, but when he heard his own name being screamed like a dragon breathing fire, he about jumped out the window down the hall to escape.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

_”Parker?”_

She’d heard her name being called, and MacCready glanced back to where the other guy’s voice came from, but the door was shut, so he kept thrusting into her. He could tell she was close, and he didn’t want to ruin that moment for her; if the guy walked in then that was his own fault, not theirs.

“You locked the door, right?” he whispered, making a particularly hard thrust while holding back his own moan. He was getting close; he could feel heat coiling in his gut.

“I have no— _fuck_ —I have no idea. Just don’t stop.”

Mac grinned and kept going, trying to pump into her faster while he kept rubbing her clit, hoping to get them both to the edge before her friend outside ruined it for either one of them. He only got half lucky.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

_”Parker?”_

No. No, no, no, no. This was not happening. She was so fucking close and Danse was _not_ about to ruin this for her. 

“You locked the door, right?” the mercenary whispered.

She didn’t fucking know and she didn’t fucking care. What she _did_ care about was coming before Danse decided to barge into the room and fucking ruin it.

“I have no— _fuck_ —I have no idea. Just don’t stop.”

The grin he gave her only made it better, and Nora felt herself returning to that edge again. So goddamn close. She was right there, building up more and more, the dam about to burst.

And then Danse had to walk in.

But the dam of her climax broke anyway and she cried out, her hands slamming onto the desk and gripping the edges as an intense wave of heat shot through her body, mixing itself with the anger in her gut at the Paladin barging into the room, let alone at the exact moment she came.

_”Danse!”_ His name was yelled in a half-scream, half-moan, which was something she couldn’t stop as MacCready helped her ride out her orgasm even as he glanced back at the Paladin. “Get the fuck out!”

This would certainly make for an awkward conversation in the morning.


	9. Mungos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I met you before. In the Citadel, I mean, back in the Capital Wasteland. You Brotherhood mungos came to Little Lamplight claiming you wanted to ‘help’ with the super mutants in Vault 87, but instead just kicked all us kids out of the caverns and made us join up as squires.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 17, 2020

Goodneighbor’s Statehouse was quiet, but the atmosphere was filled with tension that was thick enough to cut with a shishkebab, and Nora was starting to worry the entire building might explode into fucking flames. Or maybe even the entire town. Hell, it was a good thing that gas stoves weren’t around anymore.

Danse sat on the couch across from her, glaring sharp daggers at MacCready, while the mercenary sat to her right and was using a knife to clean the dirt from beneath his fingernails as if he had no idea what was happening—maybe he just didn’t care. Hancock was at his desk again, of course, with his feet kicked up on the furniture, a cigarette placed between his burned lips.

All Nora could do was sit there and glance between the Paladin and mercenary while she sipped on a can of purified water, the awkwardness in the room becoming unbearable. She was starting to feel like she couldn’t take anymore.

And, apparently, so was Hancock.

“Anyone wanna fill me in on what’s goin’ on here?” the mayor asked, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to exhale a cloud of smoke that dissipated into the air.

Nora pursed her lips and closed the can of purified water, setting it down on the table. The noise of the tin connecting with the wooden surface seemed to catch Danse’s attention as chocolate eyes flicked over to her; his face was a light red color, likely from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Her own face began to turn red in response to his gaze and Hancock’s question, but MacCready didn’t care enough to respond or even look up. 

She cleared her throat, debating on what she wanted to say, and even thought about apologizing to Danse and Mac for putting them in the position she had. Then again… was she even at fault?

“… No,” she replied flatly to the ghoul, settling against speaking about it to him at all. The Paladin’s jaw tensed before he looked down and away from her. Was he disappointed she didn’t want to speak about it to Hancock? He didn’t even _like_ Hancock.

“Well, then one of you boys are gonna have to leave because you’re really fuckin’ with my high over here,” the mayor replied.

Danse immediately stood up, volunteering himself. “I’ll go,” he mumbled, and Nora’s jaw dropped.

A quick glance over to MacCready was made, seeing him still picking dirt from beneath his fingernails with a knife, and she was starting to suspect there wasn’t even any more dirt but that he was actually doing it as a fake distraction. He must have felt her gaze, however, because he awkwardly glanced up at her from the corner of his eye a couple times.

“Shit,” the vaultie muttered, then stood and chased after her sponsor. He was already at the bottom of the staircase by the time she caught up to him, his long legs having a much quicker time traversing the steps than her own. “Danse, wait!”

He stopped a few feet away from the bottom step and turned to face her, his cheeks an even darker shade of red. The man was a volcano ready to erupt, but she wasn’t sure if that eruption would be from anger or embarrassment, nor what it would consist of. “Yes, Knight Parker?”

“Please talk to me.”

“About what?”

“You know what.”

“I’m afraid I do not, Knight.”

Nora huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She was getting frustrated at his childish behavior, and rightfully so. “Why are you acting this way?”

“I am unsure what you mean,” he responded flatly.

“Are you jealous?”

Danse’s mouth opened, then immediately closed, repeating the action a few times. She saw his throat bob as he swallowed, but he quickly shook his head. “No, I am not jealous. That would be inappropriate.”

Ah, yes. That made total sense—something being inappropriate always stopped a person from feeling a certain way. That was definitely how the world worked.

She wanted to pummel this big ass doofus.

“Then, what?” she asked, decidedly playing along with his denial.

The Paladin took a deep inhale through his nose, seeming to gather the courage to speak. “I apologize for barging in last night, but I thought…” he hesitated, “I thought you were in danger. Perhaps you should have told me you were, ah… bringing someone back to your room.”

Wait, was he serious? Was he actually suggesting she let him know that she planned to have sex with someone? “That’s not any of your business, Danse. If I want to have sex with someone, including a stranger, I don’t need to tell you about it first.”

“I’m just saying—”

“No. Stop. You’re being nosy, Paladin. Imagine if, when the Elder called me into his quarters and decided he wanted me, I had come to you first to let you know about it beforehand. Would you have appreciated it? To know that I was going to have sex with someone, especially a man you admire and respect? Is that something you _actually_ want to know?”

Danse’s throat bobbed again and his mouth opened, quickly shutting once more. He was at a loss for words. Good.

“Do you want to know what MacCready did to me last night, Danse?” she asked as she stepped closer to him, slowly closing the gap with each movement. “Why I was screaming the way I was?” His jaw tensed beneath the stubble on his face. “Or maybe you want to know what the Elder did to me, instead?” That was when he shook his head, the movement just barely visible. Nora leaned up on her tiptoes, trying to close some of the height distance between them, but the man stood over a foot taller than her—still, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I shouldn’t have told you what I did in the Memory Den. That was wrong, and I apologize for that. But from here on? Stay out of my fucking sex life.”

The Paladin quickly nodded his head, acknowledging her demand, before turning on his heel to leave the Statehouse. But just as he reached the door, she called out to him one more time. “Do you want to go back to the Prydwen?” she asked.

He stopped, his hand on the doorknob, seeming to let the question mull over in his head before finally answering, his voice quiet. “… Yes.”

“Then I’ll retrieve you in a few days, Paladin Danse. Travel safely.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

It was nearly a week before Knight Parker returned to the Prydwen, but instead of bringing the friend who could take down a deathclaw with her bare hands, there was someone new trailing after her. The vault dweller had a bad habit of bringing Commonwealth miscreants aboard his ship.

She walked into the command deck, mumbling soothing words to a man who looked like a hired gun while he was clearly distraught from the flight in the vertibird, and looked like he was ready to upchuck whatever he’d last eaten.

Weak.

Maxson turned his back to them, standing at parade rest while he gazed down at the Commonwealth below from the observation deck. He listened to their approaching footsteps, waiting for Parker to step into the room and greet him before finally acknowledging her existence. 

“Elder Maxson,” she called.

When he turned, he looked to her first, then to her companion—whom he recognized, but just couldn’t place where he’d seen the smaller man before—before settling his gaze back on the vault dweller.

“Knight Parker,” he greeted, nodding. “Lancer-Captain Kells has something to discuss with you down below, if you’d like to speak with him first.”

She nodded but glanced over at the mercenary at her side before motioning over to Maxson. “MacCready, this is Elder Arthur Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel. Elder Maxson,” she motioned to MacCready next, “This is MacCready.” Stepping away, she waved her hand in the air. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Please play nice.” 

Parker slipped out of the room, and Maxson was about to go back to ignoring the wastelander she’d brought on his ship—at least until the mercenary spoke up.

“Wait, are you _that_ Arthur Maxson?”

The Elder cocked one eyebrow up, giving the thin mercenary in front of him a quick look over. Something about the man’s face irked him, but he couldn’t figure out why. “I am unaware of another.”

“I think I met you before. In the Citadel, I mean, back in the Capital Wasteland. You Brotherhood mungos came to Little Lamplight claiming you wanted to ‘help’ with the super mutants in Vault 87, but instead just kicked all us kids out of the caverns and made us join up as squires.”

Maxson studied the other man, trying to remember him specifically, but nothing came to mind. When the Brotherhood secured Little Lamplight, he wasn’t actually old enough to officially join the soldiers on their campaign, so he was just a squire of twelve years old and was left at the Citadel during the mission. He did remember that ridiculous word, though— _mungos_ —and some of the Little Lamplight kids being brought in. But this man specifically? Nothing rang a bell.

“Aw, c’mon. You’re saying you really don’t remember me? We got along _so_ well,” MacCready said, a smirk crossing his face.

But it was the smirk that triggered the memory.

It was _him._ The fourteen-year-old boy—at the time—who flirted with Sarah Lyons and every other girl and walked around the Citadel as if he owned the place, shoving Maxson aside as if he didn’t even exist, only to disappear within a couple of months, never to be seen again. Squire Maxson was thankful for that and had hoped the kid died, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

_”MacCready,”_ Arthur hissed, narrowing his eyes; his tone was obviously filled with recognition and it only made the mercenary’s smirk widen as they locked eyes.

“Okay, I’m back.” Parker’s voice rang out in a sort of sing-song tone as she entered the observation deck again, and she stopped beside her companion. “I hope Mac here wasn’t too much trouble,” she said playfully, bumping her shoulder into him. The mercenary’s eyes stayed locked with Maxson’s while his arm wrapped around the vaultie’s waist, and only then did the Elder’s gaze break away, immediately zoning in on where MacCready’s hand connected with Parker’s hip., his jaw tensing beneath his beard.

He wanted to throw the smaller man through the observation deck window and off the goddamn ship. He didn’t deserve to be touching Parker.

“No, not at all,” the Elder mumbled before forcing himself to look back at her face.

“So, there’s an important mission I know you’ll be interested in hearing about. Can we have a meeting tonight to discuss it?” she asked.

“Certainly.”


	10. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you fuck him?” he growled before she had the chance to question.
> 
> “Wh-who!?”
> 
> “The mercenary.”
> 
> “I—”
> 
> “Don’t lie to me, Parker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 20, 2020

There was a quiet knock on the bulkhead, knuckles rapping against the metal from the outside, barely audible through its thickness but just loud enough to be heard.

“Come in,” he called, beckoning his visitor inside.

Parker slipped into his quarters, shutting the door behind her. She hadn’t brought the mercenary, thankfully; Maxson didn’t think he could handle seeing the man’s face—not right now, not in his most private of places. MacCready was lucky he didn’t get thrown off the damn flight deck for merely existing in the Elder’s presence, and _especially_ for touching Parker.

Not that… it mattered.

“Elder Maxson,” she greeted.

“Knight Parker. Please, have a seat.” Only a quick glance up to her was made, his eyes returning to a clipboard he had in his hands as he motioned his free one to the group of chairs around the table in the center of his room. He currently sat in the same chair he always did—on the end, furthest from the door, closest to his desk. A creature of habit.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

Her words were formal but the tone and meaning behind them were just the opposite—she was speaking to him the same way she had the last time they’d been alone, when they intended to fuck but he’d decided against it at the last minute because he hadn’t realized he’d be the first one to take her since her husband died. It would have brought unwanted baggage.

The Elder’s eyes immediately snapped up to her, catching the vault dweller already staring at him with the faintest of smirks upon her lips as she moved to sit in the chair diagonally to his left. He cleared his throat and set the clipboard down on the table. The reports could wait.

“Earlier, you mentioned a mission you thought I’d be interested in. Care to explain?” he asked as he stood and moved over to his desk, grabbing one of the bottles of whiskey and pouring some of the brown liquid into two glasses. He brought them back over to the table, setting one in front of her and the other in front of his spot before taking his seat again.

“I have to go into the Glowing Sea,” she answered. “There’s a scientist who escaped the Institute and he’s hiding out there. I need information from him to find my son.”

“And what does this have to do with the Brotherhood?”

Parker bit her bottom lip and he found his eyes dropping to watch as her teeth nibbled at the skin. “Well… I want to take Danse with me.”

Really, he could have laughed at her request. There was no way she actually expected him to let her take Paladin Danse, of all people, into the Glowing Sea. That was preposterous. “Why would I allow you to take one of my most valuable assets into the most dangerous place in the Commonwealth?”

Their eyes met and it was then he saw the pain burning behind her irises; his question struck a sore spot, he could tell, but Arthur Maxson was never one to pull punches before and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start doing it now—not even for this soft, prewar woman in front of him.

“Because you know how much this means to me.”

The whiskey in his glass sloshed against the sides as he moved his arm back and forth, his eyes falling to watch. It was true that she needed this information to find her son, but that didn’t involve him nor the Brotherhood. What did his faction even get out of it?

“Please. I need him with me. I trust him with my life, and I know he’d never let anything happen to me, just like I’d never let anything happen to him.” He met her gaze again, just over the rim of the glass. “Please, Arthur.”

The use of his first name had him gritting his teeth as he nearly bristled. She’d not used it before except when introducing him to the mercenary, but even then, it was different. It certainly sounded nice rolling off her tongue, but he knew she wasn’t using it in an endearing way or even in a casual way—no, this was manipulative. He’d pissed her off the last time they were alone and there was no doubt in his mind that she was still enraged at him, perhaps rightfully so. But that didn’t mean she could try to fucking _manipulate_ him with this… attempt at some sort of _intimacy,_ like they were _friends._

Still, his free hand raised to scratch at his jaw beneath his beard while he tossed the idea of allowing Danse to go with her around in his head. There were so many unknown variables, and while sending Danse would give her a much higher chance at succeeding in her mission, it also meant risking his most valuable soldier on… well, rumors. Still, if she was correct, the information would be significant. 

“I’ll agree to this on only one condition,” he started; the vault dweller perked up, “You share every piece of information you receive from this scientist with the Brotherhood and you do so the moment you return from the Glowing Sea, and not a second later.”

Parker nodded without hesitation. “Deal.”

“Very well. You have yourself a traveling companion, Knight Parker. Speak to Proctor Ingram in the morning about modifying your power armor to deal with the rads.”

A wide grin spread across her face; it was cute. “Thank you so much, Sir. This means everything to me.”

“Was that all, Knight?”

“Well…” she started, the perkiness in her face and grin dissolving just slightly, “I’m still really pissed off about what you said to me before.”

“I figured as much,” Maxson admitted.

“And I think you should make it up to me.”

One eyebrow cocked. “Did I not just do that by agreeing to let you take Paladin Danse into the Glowing Sea?”

“I don’t mean in the field… _Sir.”_

The Elder’s eyes snapped up to hers once again, finding the grin on her face had been replaced by a mischievous expression. Arthur downed the rest of his whiskey though she left hers untouched, and once his glass was returned to the table, he leaned back in his chair, spread his knees, and planted his feet on the ground, his hand then patting his thigh. “Come here.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Nora immediately stood and sauntered over to him with confidence in her every step before sliding into his lap, letting her legs fall on either side of his body and the chair. One of his hands slid up her spine and cupped the back of her neck while the other gently grasped her chin, pulling her down into a rough kiss; she made a quiet noise into it, gently biting his bottom lip before allowing her tongue to dart out across the spot she’d clipped with her teeth.

But when both his hands suddenly tightened around her neck and jaw as he pulled back from the kiss, a cocktail of panic and confusion set in. Her eyebrows furrowed while she looked down at the man beneath her, searching his face for any answer to what was happening as she grabbed onto his wrist and forearm while he still grasped her jaw.

“Did you fuck him?” he growled before she had the chance to question.

“Wh-who!?”

“The mercenary.”

“I—”

“Don’t lie to me, Parker.”

Nora gulped. If she lied, would he be able to tell? She was a capable liar at times, while other times… not so much. But maybe there was no point in trying to hide it, anyway.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered; there was no shame in her voice.

“How many times?”

“Twice, sir.”

Maxson went quiet for a second as he studied her, but that just made her nervous. He always seemed to keep his face expressionless, which made it hard to read him; what the hell was he thinking?

“Because I wouldn’t fuck you?” he finally asked.

That made her jaw tense beneath his hand. She glared him down, gripping his wrist and forearm even tighter. “No.”

“Then why?”

It was a good question. Why had she sought out MacCready—or, rather, why had she fucked the first person who was clearly ready and willing after Maxson had rejected her so harshly?

“To prove you wrong.”

One of his eyebrows arched.

Okay, so maybe the reason actually was because he wouldn’t fuck her.

“I told you before, _Elder:_ you think too highly of yourself. Now, are _you_ gonna fuck me, or do I gotta fuck _MacCready_ on your ship, instead?”

When his eyes narrowed, she knew she’d struck a nerve—and she’d struck it hard—especially when he stood up without releasing her jaw or the back of her neck. With his arm behind her, it kept her from leaning away from him, so Nora was forced to wrap her legs around his hips and her arms around his biceps to keep herself from falling; if she’d tried to stand, she would have gotten hurt considering he was so much taller than her and she would have been held up too high to reach the ground.

“I don’t take orders from you, _little girl,”_ he snarled. Maxson made only a few strides before he was standing near the bed, then just _tossed her onto it._

The vaultie yelped and flailed in mid-air before landing on the mattress at an angle that had the springs painfully digging into her back; she glared up at him. But something about what he’d called her— _little girl_ —sent heat straight to her core.

“Aren’t you a little _young_ to be calling me a ‘little girl’?” she snipped. “I _am_ older than you, after all.”

“Not by much,” Maxson muttered before lifting his right foot and pulling something from the outside of his boot—a knife!?

A pang of fear shot through her body all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes and she watched as something glinted in his eyes at her reaction, as if he could see and smell her fear. But she didn’t get to focus on it for long because he was quick to be on top of her, straddling her hips, his free hand grabbing her jaw as he leaned over and crashed their mouths together in a rough kiss that was held only briefly before he was cutting her clothes off.

Relief washed over her—so long as that was what the knife was being used for.

“How old _are_ you, anyway?” she gasped.

“Twenty.”

Oh, hell, she was robbing the cradle.

Her vault suit was quickly shredded—he was lucky she had more of them back at Sanctuary because she loved the damn things—with the remnants scattered all over the bed and floor. The knife was then shoved back into his boot before he was leaning down again, his teeth immediately on her neck, biting at her pulse point hard enough to bruise while he reached beneath her to undo her bra. At least he had the decency to not cut her undergarments off.

Still, he was bruising her neck, and if she didn’t get a stimpack to help it heal before leaving… _everyone_ would see it. They’d _know._

Fuck.

A low growl rumbled against her skin before he let go and dragged the flat of his tongue along the mark he’d left. “I’m not going to be gentle. I don’t do gentle.”

Nora gasped when another bite was placed, this time on the column of her throat, and she could only tip her head back, baring and submitting the area to him. “Good,” she moaned, arching her back. His rough jumpsuit was rubbing against her nipples, and while she never really cared for nipple play since hers were never very sensitive, she was so goddamn horny that everything felt fucking _amazing._

Maxson dragged his tongue further down, dipping it into the notch of her clavicle, and she could only respond with another low moan while her fingers threaded into his hair. She could hear one of his hands working at his jumpsuit, unbuckling and unzipping it as he teased her, trailing kisses and licks and bites down to one of her breasts. Soon, he had his jumpsuit down to his hips and pulled his undershirt off, tossing it to the side, and was working on unlacing his boots with the same hand while he focused on one of her breasts. It didn’t take long before he had both boots off, either—but rather than pushing his jumpsuit down the rest of the way, he started kissing and licking further down her body and straight between her legs.

_Fuck,_ she’d been dreaming about his tongue lapping at her clit since that first night.

Her underwear was slid down her legs and tossed away, and once Maxson pushed her thighs apart again, he immediately dove in, dragging his tongue up her slit—that, alone, forced a moan from her. He used one hand to spread her lower lips with his fingers as he leaned in to flick his tongue against her clit, then sucked it into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped; he responded with a low growl that vibrated against her clit, making her back arch. His aggression and manhandling already had her completely turned on, and now his eagerness to eat her out was quickly bringing her closer to the edge. The man knew what he was doing and was just so fucking enthusiastic about it, as if he _liked_ eating pussy.

_Fuck._

His hand slid a bit further down so he could dip his middle finger into her, slowly pumping in and out as she was climbing toward her climax while he kept sucking on her clit. A second finger—his ring one—was soon worked in, as well, and not long after he crooked them and started searching for her sweet spot were the pads pressing against that hidden bundle of nerves, stroking and petting. Nora moaned loudly and was sent straight to the edge, about to tip over—

But then he just… pulled away.

The vaultie gasped in a cocktail of confusion and surprise, her eyes opening wide as she leaned up to look down at him, her hand instinctively reaching between her legs so she could bring herself to orgasm—but he grabbed her wrist, and then the other, stopping her from finishing herself off. And since the bulk of his upper body was still between her thighs, it kept her from closing her legs to rub them together in hopes the friction might help her tip over the edge. It was fucking useless.

“No, no, no,” she quietly whined, but could only follow it up with a groan as Maxson’s teeth clamped down on the inside of her thigh in response. Yet another mark, this one a bit more personal for anyone who would end up between her legs.

Like MacCready.

The feeling of her need to cum drifted away like a receding wave fairly quickly and she could only sigh in disappointment.

But two fingers slid back into her, slowly pumping, before a third worked its way in. Nora spread her legs a little wider, a sharp inhale pulled between her teeth from the burn of the stretch, and Arthur immediately sucked her clit back into his mouth, nibbling gently. Her moans were louder this time as her need to cum was a bit more intense since she hadn’t gotten to before despite being so close, and the coil in her belly came much quicker while her legs started trembling before she even realized it.

And just as he pulled away again, grabbing her wrists to keep her from touching herself like the first time, she felt like she could fucking _cry._

Another bite was made to the inside of her thigh, this time to the other one.

He was punishing her, that much was clear—but for what? Having sex with MacCready? _He_ was the one who’d told her that he wouldn’t be the first one to fuck her after her husband’s death, so why was he getting upset about her having sex with someone else? She’d seen it in his eyes the minute he’d turned to face her and the mercenary, and she’d heard it in his voice, too. His questions only proved it, and now this?

He was jealous.

Why were these big, bad soldier boys jealous of MacCready?

“Arthur, _please!”_ she sobbed.

Sky blue eyes flicked up to her from between her legs, meeting her gaze as she leaned up again, and he held it for a long moment while some sort of conflict washed over his face. Was it because she’d used his name? She hadn’t used it before except once earlier—should she have called him _’sir,’_ instead?

But the Elder climbed up her body, trailing gentle bites in his path, and had her scoot up the bed in the process just before crashing their lips together in a rough kiss. Her arms looped beneath his and her hands went to his sides, palms slowly sliding down his body toward where his suit was still hugging his hips. _Fuck,_ she wanted to push it off—wanted him to bare himself.

“Please fuck me,” she mumbled against his lips while running her hands against his skin. She could feel the ridges and trenches from scars as her fingers and palms moved up and down his sides and back. “Please, Arthur.”

A low noise was made into the kiss and Maxson pulled away just enough to sit back on his knees while still between her legs. She could see him pressing against his suit—and when he pushed it and his boxer briefs down, lifting one knee at a time to get his clothing fully off before tossing it all onto the floor, she couldn’t stop herself from admiring the way he looked, which was something she didn’t get to do last time.

His chest and stomach were covered in thick, dark hair that dipped down and connected to the hair on his groin; _fuck_ she so badly wanted to run her fingers through the hair on his chest and belly. Scars of faded pink and silver littered his skin, some peeking out from beneath the dark expanse of hair along his front as well as trailing everywhere else along his body—a burn on his left shoulder blade that extended up and over the top; claw marks on his right pectoral; a very visible crater-like scar in his right shoulder; a long, thin slash that curved around from the middle of his back to his right hip; and so many more. And he was built, too, clearly having spent a lot of time working on his physique; Nora found herself wanting to trace her fingertips and tongue along each toned muscle and scar she could see.

And as she dropped her eyes lower, settling her gaze on his cock— _fuck._ He was uncut, which she expected, and probably about average in length for his height of 6’2”, but he was _thick_ as hell; and as nervous as that made her, it also made her equally fucking wet and wanting.

The man was fucking _delicious._

A glance up to his face was made as she bit her bottom lip, but he took that moment to grasp her jaw as he leaned forward, crashing their mouths together again in another rough kiss while he settled his body atop hers, leaning on one elbow. The hand on her jaw soon slid down to her throat, then her chest, before settling on her breast where he grabbed and groped—and that was when she felt his cock pressing against her. But he wasn’t pushing in, instead just rubbing his length along her folds, _teasing_ her.

Arthur pulled away from her lips and trailed kisses down to her throat, his tongue dragging along the column before he placed soft kisses and nips to the tender skin there. “How bad do you want me to fuck you, hm?”

Was he _really_ doing this!? After he’d just denied her two orgasms!?

“Please, Arthur,” she whispered, her eyes closing and head tipping back to bare her throat to him. “I—I want it—I want _you_ —so bad.” Nora slid her hands along the sides of his head, her fingertips gently running through the buzzed hairs that grew thicker as they neared the top, before she threaded her fingers into the longer part of his undercut. But when she gently grabbed, that seemed to be a mistake.

Where he was once groping her breast, he was suddenly grabbing her wrist almost to the point of pain before leaning up on his elbow and glaring down at her. “Let go,” the Elder snarled; she felt her stomach twist in a mixture of excitement and fear again as she obeyed. Maxson then roughly pinned her wrist to the mattress above her head, doing the same to the other one, and then holding both wrists with one of his hands. “Do _not_ do that again. Do you understand me?”

He’d let her grab his hair last time, so why not this time? “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” she whispered.

But she had to admit, there was something about being pinned beneath a man twice her size that made her not care about the change, instead feeling a combination of vulnerable and aroused.

Arthur leaned down and latched onto her shoulder with his teeth, biting hard—harder than he’d bitten her before—and she cried out in pain. Another punishment?

When he pulled away, she was panting, but he only moved to her other shoulder and gifted a matching mark. It fucking hurt but made heat pool between her thighs as she was aching for his touch and for release; and right now, _any_ touch would do.

As soon as he was done marking her shoulders, Maxson leaned up on one elbow, looking down at her. “You want to be a good girl?” She didn’t answer; he didn’t make her. “Then _behave.”_

With that, she watched as his free hand went to his mouth and he licked his fingertips, that same hand then disappearing between their bodies before he was pressing into her.

It was… intense, to say the least. He’d stretched her with his fingers, but Nora was _small,_ and Arthur was fucking _thick,_ so there was still a burning sensation as he worked himself in, his hips doing a slow back-and-forth movement. She could only gasp, the sharp intake of air followed up with a moan as her body tensed beneath him.

“Fuck,” she whined.

Maxson placed soft, comforting kisses to her clavicle and throat, and once he was hilted, he remained still, allowing her to adjust to his girth—she definitely needed it.

“Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he groaned against her neck just before he started moving—slowly, and with small half-thrusts at first, ensuring she was alright with the movement. There was still a bit of burning, but it’d mostly subsided, and she was soon moaning from his movements. Especially when he picked up the pace.

It wasn’t long before their hips were clapping together, the sound echoing off the metal walls and clashing with her moans that did the same. The hand not holding her wrists snaked down between their bodies and went to her clit, fingers rubbing lazy circles around it, once again teasing her because he knew it wouldn’t be enough to get her off—but she accepted it, nonetheless. A touch was a touch to her right now, and it wasn’t like she really had a choice in the matter, anyway.

“Fuck, Arthur,” she moaned, her legs spreading wider to let him sink deeper.

Using his name had him making eye contact once more, that same internal conflict washing over his face as he let his tongue sweep over his bottom lip.

And when he started talking, her stomach _swooped._

“You glad I’m finally fucking you?”

Nora’s lips parted but she couldn’t help it when she enthusiastically nodded her head, a loud moan escaping her throat at the same time.

“Speak your answer,” he ordered; his words were snapped and there was something about the way he said it that had her immediately obeying—and eagerly _wanting_ to obey.

“Yes, sir.”

After one more thrust that was harder than the others, the Elder finally released her wrists and put his hands on her hips, lifting them up as he sat back on his haunches; the change allowed him to drive into her deeper since he could put more force behind each thrust. Her own hands moved down, fingers wrapping around his wrists as they gripped her, holding them like she was grounding herself.

_”Fuck,_ Parker, you feel so good,” he groaned. “So damn _wet.”_

_Fucking hell,_ his words were doing her in—even if he _was_ only using her last name.

“Oh, god, I’m so close,” she moaned, arching her back.

She only realized too late that she shouldn’t have said anything. The moment her pussy was tightening around him, Arthur pulled out and left her feeling empty once again; Nora gasped, just like before, but when she tried to touch herself this time, he didn’t physically stop her—instead, he stopped her with a single word.

“No.”

Her hand froze in mid-air, fingers trembling just above her aching cunt. “Please, sir,” she whispered, locking eyes with him, _begging._

The hand on her jaw was a surprise as he leaned over her and Nora grabbed onto his wrist and forearm, another whine escaping her throat. Their faces were close as he stared down at her, a sort of warning in his eyes. “I said _’no,’_ Parker,” he growled. “Do you want to be a good girl or not?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. Did she… want to be a good girl? Well, yeah, but she wasn’t sure _why_ that was—but she did. Nora nodded her head.

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir. I want to be a good girl.”

“Then you will not cum until I say you can.”

“O-okay.”

“Say it, Parker,” he ordered—there was that familiar _snap_ to his voice again. Something she still didn’t quite understand.

“I will not cum until you say I can.”

“Good girl.” A sort of heat ran through her chest and she watched the left corner of his mouth twitch. “See? It’s easy to receive praise. You just have to earn it.”

Earn it. _Earn it._ Nora was about to fucking _cry_ from how much her body wanted to cum. But she’d already slipped off the edge again—not in the direction she wanted—and a mixture of desperation, frustration, and disappointment washed over her. He seemed to notice, though, because after he sat up, his tongue swept over his bottom lip while he glanced her body over before a rough hand grabbed one of her legs and pushed her onto her side, the other grabbing her hip and abruptly rolling her onto her belly, then pulling her up so her ass was in the air. Nora raised herself to all fours, and Arthur immediately took that opportunity to ram himself back in, balls-deep, forcing a combination of a yelp and groan from her as she almost collapsed from the intensity. But he didn’t fuck her right away—instead, he remained still, letting her just pulse around his cock.

_Fuck,_ she couldn’t take much more of this.

As the verge of yet another orgasm went away for the _fourth_ time, Maxson slowly pulled his hips back, then roughly pushed forward, coaxing a sharp exhale that was combined with a quiet moan from her throat. He did it a few times, drawing that same sound each time as if that was the goal—and perhaps it was. 

The pace of his thrusts soon picked back up and returned to quick and hard, and Nora’s moans increased in pitch to match them. But every sound around her—the clapping of his hips against her ass echoing off the metal walls of the room, his panting and quiet groans, the words he growled behind her, the creaking of the bed—was drowned out by her bodily need to _just fucking cum._

But when he grabbed both her forearms just below the elbows and held her torso up as if she was still leaning on her hands, her eyes grew wide and she was caught off guard. Maxson used the leverage from his hold by pulling her body back against him when he thrusted, making his cock drive deeper and his hips slam harder against her ass, and it had her quickly toppling toward the edge; the only thing she could even think about was coming and getting that sweet fucking release. 

The Elder didn’t stop her this time, though, but that was likely because he was on the verge of coming, himself, rather than because he felt she’d been sufficiently punished. He pounded into her harder, low groans rumbling from his chest when she was clenching around him; tightening.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, _fuckfuckfuck,_ Arthur!” she keened. Nora’s back bowed and her hands balled into fists as she was right on the edge, ready to cum, but he didn’t let up. Was she even _allowed_ to cum yet? 

His panting was heavy behind her with just the slightest of moans in his breath, but as soon as she got that permission she sought, she was over and done with. _”Mmmfuckyes._ Cum for me, Parker,” he growled.

The bottoms of her feet felt like they were on fucking _fire_ as she came, and she could have sworn she saw stars shooting behind her eyelids like one of those prewar meteor showers. When he let go of her arms and pulled out, Nora fell face-first into the pillow, gasping for air against the cloth as if she couldn’t even find the energy to shift her head to the side to breathe.

Arthur’s fist occasionally grazed the top of her ass while he panted, and after a second, she felt his cum paint her skin before his fingers were gently rubbing along it a few moments later, smearing it against her.

“You look so fucking good like this. Think I’ll cum on your face next time,” he growled breathlessly, the sound completely possessive; she felt a shiver run through her body from just how goddamn _hot_ that was. He sounded so damn good when breathless and going through that post-orgasm high.

Nora went to roll onto her side with what little effort she could muster but a hand was placed on her hip to keep her from moving.

“Stay,” Maxson lightly ordered.

Obeying, the vaultie remained where she was with her face still buried in his pillow—it smelled exactly like him and it was _intoxicating_ —as she felt the bed shift when he got off it. She didn’t bother trying to look but instead just listened to his bare feet pad across the floor as he moved around the room, opening a drawer and grabbing something from it, then closing it and moving back to her. A cloth was pressed between her legs and she startled from the unexpected touch, but he gently wiped away some of her slick and cum before then pressing it against her backside to wipe away his own. 

Once he finished cleaning her, the bed dipped again as he climbed into it beside her, then laid on his side before pulling her down to where her back was against his chest, the coarse hairs on the front of his body rubbing against her skin only making her want to nestle back against him more. One of his arms went beneath her neck and wrapped around her chest, his hand resting on her shoulder, while the other draped over her side and stomach, his fingers tucking beneath her, but both pulled her close and held her body tightly against his.

Nora had absolutely no idea why he’d cleaned her or why he was spooning with her—hell, she half expected him to kick her out after he fucked her—but she was too damn tired and sore to ask any questions.

Besides, he was warm, and this was comfortable.


	11. Switched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His face was blank, just as she expected it to be when he’d done this to Nate all that time ago—expressionless, emotionless, more machine than man. More machine than Nick fucking Valentine, because at least Nick Valentine had a goddamn _conscience._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 22, 2020

The cold temperature that blossomed from her chest was unmistakably familiar—a resounding feeling that covered her entire body and forced a shiver straight up her spine. What felt like icicles dangled from wet strands of her hair while frost licked at her skin, and if she hadn’t known any better, she might have thought she’d just walked indoors to take shelter from a blizzard.

But Nora did know better—and she knew this place. It was familiar. _Too_ familiar. And a sudden feeling of dread sank deep in her gut as she realized she was once again trapped inside a cryopod, back where she’d started when she was forced to begin her life anew after her old one was stolen right before her eyes.

A sharp pain surged through her skull as she took a deep inhale, the feeling equivalent to a brain freeze she would get after drinking a frozen coffee too quickly even though the beverage was sometimes a necessary evil to help get her through the workday.

But this wasn’t a long day at the office.

The vault dweller tried to raise her hand to the window of her pod, an almost exact repeat of last time, but something resting in the crook of her elbow gave her pause and made her reconsider the movement; and when her gaze fell down to spot the innocent face she’d longed to see again, Nora felt a hole in her heart shrink as if it was repairing itself—stitches and all. Shaun’s tiny body was held tightly against her chest and Nora watched him breathe softly and slowly, his eyes closed as he peacefully slept in her grasp. It had been so long since she’d held him, since she’d even had dreams about the precious creature sleeping in her arms again that didn’t involve him being stolen or mangled or killed.

But now, here he was, safe with her and sleeping away all the worries of the world.

She brought a hand to his face, rubbing the backs of her icy fingers against his soft cheek; he was so warm beneath her touch, but he didn’t even stir.

But this… wasn’t right. Something was wrong; this wasn’t how she remembered it. No, this wasn’t _her_ memory.

The feeling of being a mother again was all she wanted—even if it only lasted a moment—but this memory was not hers. This was a memory she had no right to experience.

_Manual override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended._

The familiar words from the overhead speaker outside her pod seemed to echo in her ears, catching her attention as if it had grabbed her jaw and forced her to look up itself. She tried to peer through the glass but couldn’t make out a thing; instead, she reached her free arm up to wipe the fog away, then peeking through the new opening.

But nothing prepared her for the hazel eyes that stared at her from across the aisle in a pod of their own.

Nate.

He was alive, his palm pressed to the glass before his fingers curled and banged on it silently. She watched his mouth move, expecting to hear the familiar boom of his voice in her ears, but nothing came. Had she forgotten what he sounded like?

“This is the one. Here,” a feminine voice said as two people walked into her view. She didn’t even need to see them to know who they were; she’d watched them in her dreams so many nights—watched _him,_ even after she’d put a fucking bullet in his brain and ripped the mechanics out of it.

“Open it.”

Kellogg, alive and well, stood outside the pod and peered in at her. His familiar gaze made fear seep from every pore in her body and she wished she could melt through the walls with Shaun in her arms and escape, but she knew what was happening. She knew what fate had in store for her here. There was no escaping this—no escaping him. Just like there was no escaping the dread she felt.

Nora’s pod door opened with a hiss and she instinctively clutched Shaun to her chest; a motherly action. “You,” she hissed, her eyes remaining on the bald mercenary in front of her.

His face was blank, just as she expected it to be when he’d done this to Nate all that time ago—expressionless, emotionless, more machine than man. More machine than Nick fucking Valentine, because at least Nick Valentine had a goddamn _conscience._

The woman in the white jumpsuit reached out to take Shaun, but Nora shot her a glare and curled her lip—a warning. “Don’t touch him!” she snarled, but the mystery woman just gently tugged on the baby, trying to coax his mother to release him.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Kellogg said as if he were reading from a script, and she wondered if the words were meant to be read with a soothing tone or if they were always intended to sound just as dead as his emotions.

But another tug on the baby in her arms forced tears to well in her eyes, and the thought of losing her child yet again made her want to crumble all over the floor until she was nothing but ash. “No, please. Not again. I can’t do this again,” she pleaded. She begged for him to not steal her life from her again, to not utterly destroy her, to not leave her in the dark and alone and completely broken; and while she knew her cries would do nothing, there was still some part of her that hoped they might because she wouldn’t— _couldn’t_ —live through it a third time. It would break her. It would break her into a million tiny pieces and not even every bottle of wonderglue would be able to put her back together again.

“Let the boy go. I’m only gonna tell you once.”

A gun was raised and aimed at her head and she dropped her eyes to the baby in her arms. He’d been crying last time, she remembered that, but he was quiet here as he peered up at her with a set of eyes that were not his own. Her son was supposed to have hazel eyes, just like his father, where their color was more green than brown; but instead, Nora was staring down into bright blue ones that resembled the clearest sky.

They were familiar.

But she didn’t have time to wonder as she smiled sadly at him, knowing this was their goodbye—a luxury they didn’t get before. “Mommy loves you, Shaun,” she whispered, placing a gentle kiss to the infant’s forehead. The woman in the white jumpsuit had stopped pulling for a moment, as if letting her say goodbye—a blessing Nora could almost be thankful for. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll find you, okay? I promise.”

And when the game of tug-the-baby began again, Nora knew what was coming; she’d watched it over and over in her head every night for months on end until she could recite every movement, every line, every single detail by memory without pause. And so she didn’t let go of her son, but instead looked down the barrel of the gun pointing directly at her face, as if she was welcoming death with open arms.

But something was different again.

This was wrong. This was all so fucking _wrong._

Her eyes followed the line of the gun to the hand covered in fingerless gloves, trailing up the arm of a brown coat to see the face of a man who held her life at the end of a barrel. Thick lips were downturned into an almost perpetual frown, surrounded by a bushy brown beard rather than a short gray one. The scar that had once stretched from the left side of the mercenary’s hairline, through his left eye, and down his cheek was instead on the other side and a different shape; now, it began below his right eye and disappeared into the coarse facial hair.

When she finally met his gaze, her lips just slightly parted as recognition and realization swept over her like a tsunami hitting a tropical island, crashing down on her with the intention of wiping her out. No longer did Kellogg’s darker hazel hues look at her, but instead she was met by the stare of the bright blue color she’d seen in her son’s gaze just seconds ago.

And the only thing Nora could do was whisper the man’s name before he pulled the trigger, the same bullet that was once meant for Nate instead infiltrating her skull like this man had infiltrated her thoughts again and again and again.

“Arthur.”


	12. Predator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was trying not to look at him but the fear that washed over her face was leaking from her and it was _exciting_ him—giving him a sick thrill. The predator inside wanted to lure that out even more; but the man, however, said she shouldn’t be afraid of him and that it was fucked up for his dick to get hard at the mere idea of this small woman playing prey to his predator instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 22, 2020

Nora had awoken from her nightmare covered in a thin layer of sweat she wore like a blanket, gasping for air that couldn’t fill her lungs fast enough, and painfully alone. At first, she’d struggled to discern where she was, mistaking the metal walls of the airship for the metal walls of the vault—worried she was, once again, back in her icy prison.

Deep breathing helped her focus and she was soon able to determine the differences between the vault and the Prydwen: blue walls versus vanilla walls; a cryopod versus a bed; cold versus warm; the smell of frost versus the smell of sex and testosterone and whiskey and _Arthur._

Still, while she was glad that she wasn’t stuck in the vault any longer, the airship oftentimes made her feel like she’d walked out of an underground tomb and straight into a flying one—directly from one prison and into another.

Waking up alone wasn’t ideal, either—it never was. MacCready had stuck around both times after they’d fucked—before she hired him, of course—and woke up beside her come morning. But whether that was due to the fact he was a late sleeper and was too lazy to get up before she woke or because he actually wanted the physical human contact through cuddling, she had no idea.

But with other? He was gone before she woke.

Then again, maybe that was a good thing.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

When she’d entered the observation deck moments before, she was quietly laughing with the mercenary on one side and Danse on the other as she conversed with her hired gun. Everything had seemed normal, but the second she laid her eyes on Arthur, he witnessed her face grow white as if she’d seen a ghost. Immediately, her gaze dropped to the floor to where she was staring at his boots, and she grew quiet and distant.

Admittedly, he didn’t know Parker well, only from the information she volunteered for her file and how she acted in bed and in front of others, but this was nothing like how she’d been any time he’d seen her—not when she’d blatantly flirted with him in front of Danse and her companion, Cait; not when she’d barged into his quarters running on nothing but impatience and demanding he give her a mission; not when she’d boarded the ship with the insufferable cave child at her heels; not when she’d rapped her knuckles on his door with that cocky attitude in play; and especially not when she was screaming his name, begging him to let her cum as he buried his cock in her from behind.

The woman before him was different, even from just a few moments ago, and that change happened when _she looked at him._ Parker didn’t dare shift her gaze or even pretend to be the same defiant woman he knew her to be; instead, she stared at the ground as if she were backing down or submitting.

No, this was not submission. This was _fear._

“Knight Parker.” Her title was used sharply, grabbing her attention, and the sound made her visibly wince; she snapped her eyes up to him. “I asked you a question.”

She seemed taken aback by his words, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought over what he’d asked of her—had she even heard him? But after a few seconds, she retreated in defeat, her gaze falling to the ground once again while shame enveloped her face. “Sorry, Elder Maxson,” she mumbled. “I must not have heard you.”

Arthur felt himself growing impatient. “I asked if you spoke to Proctor Ingram about your power armor. Both you and Paladin Danse need to prepare with modifications to your armor if you’re to traverse the Glowing Sea safely.”

But the vault dweller didn’t seem to be listening again as she stared down, her eyes distant, almost as if she were _intentionally_ blocking him out. But just when the Elder was ready to reprimand her for it, Danse stepped forward—his suit of power armor nowhere to be seen—and spoke up.

“Elder, if I may,” he began; Arthur nodded. “I spoke to Proctor Ingram already and she’s working on some radiation scrubbed modifications that can help us survive the rads. Additionally, Knight Parker and I will be working on modifying our regular armor, as well.”

Maxson nodded as Danse spoke, though he found his eyes drifting over to Parker despite how she still refused to look up. He watched as MacCready wrapped an arm around her waist, his fingers digging into the Brotherhood of Steel jumpsuit she wore—the one he’d left on the table for her since he’d shredded her clothes last night—as he pulled her against his side and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he’d said made her smile and Arthur found his jaw tensing, an uncomfortable but not entirely unfamiliar feeling bubbling deep in his gut. 

And when Parker glanced up to him, it was just like before—her smile faded, and she quickly looked back down.

She feared him.

Why?

“Excellent work, Paladin,” Maxson said, finally returning his gaze back to Danse just in time to see the soldier beam. “Did Proctor Ingram provide an estimate for how long it would take until the modifications are complete?”

“No, she did not, Elder.”

“I see.” Arthur scratched at his own jaw, dull nails rubbing the skin beneath the coarse hairs of his beard before he brushed it out with his fingers. “If you require help modifying your regular armor, see Proctor Teagan. Otherwise, keep me updated on the progress and let me know if anything changes. Dismissed.”

The two men saluted before the trio turned to leave, but Arthur cleared his throat before calling for one of them to return.

“Knight Parker. A word, please.”

She froze, her body tensing, back still to him as MacCready turned to look with a concerned expression, as if he knew what was bothering her. _Of course_ she’d told him.

That was certainly infuriating. 

The two men locked gazes for a moment and the Elder found himself scowling, eyes narrowed, almost daring the mercenary to do or say anything at all; but instead, Nora had whispered something along the lines of _’it’s okay’_ to the cave child before MacCready hesitantly nodded and left, joining Danse out on the flight deck.

It was only once the mercenary had left that she turned to face Arthur with a forced, uneasy smile on her lips; the vault dweller’s eyes raised—but she wasn’t looking at him, instead looking _past_ him.

And he could almost smell her fear clogging the air of the observation deck like ozone during a storm.

“You’re acting different,” the Elder said, keeping his voice low. They were alone on the observation deck but Lancer-Captain Kells and some of his crew were still just a flight of steps below.

“I’m sorry.”

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

She was lying and it was getting more and more frustrating by the second. Arthur slowly stepped forward, prowling, and he could almost see the fear rise in her face, becoming visibly apparent as that uneasy smile faded.

“Did I hurt you last night?” he asked.

“No.”

As he grew closer, Nora started backing up, eventually thumping her back into a wall so she had nowhere to go. Only once he was a few inches away from her did he stop, his gaze boring down into her. She was trying not to look at him but the fear that washed over her face was leaking from her and it was _exciting_ him—giving him a sick thrill. The predator inside wanted to lure that out even more; but the man, however, said she shouldn’t be afraid of him and that it was fucked up for his dick to get hard at the mere idea of this small woman playing prey to his predator instincts.

“Are you afraid of me?” he finally asked.

She tensed her jaw at the question before shaking her head, answering a little too quickly and giving herself away. “No, of course not.”

One hand reached up as he captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up so he could see her face fully. “I don’t tolerate lying,” he quietly growled, using the same tone of voice he’d used with her last night; perhaps she’d respond to that and give him a proper answer—that was all he was asking for.

And she did, to an extent, as she raised her eyes to finally meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered, the words just barely audible. But the _’Sir’_ didn’t hold the same weight as it did last night—she was only using it to please him because she thought that was what he wanted, not because _she_ wanted to. 

When he gently stroked his thumb over her lower lip, she seemed to slightly relax. “You can tell me.”

“I—” she hesitated. “I’m just… not feeling well, is all. I just need some fresh air. That’ll help.”

He didn’t believe her. She knew he didn’t believe her. But he let her get away with it, regardless, because he knew he wasn’t going to get anything more out of her—not yet, at least.

Arthur studied her for a long moment before releasing her and clasping his hands behind his back, taking a few steps away from her. “Very well,” he said, tipping his chin up. “Dismissed.”


	13. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Were you really about to stab my dog, MacCready!?”
> 
> “The thing just fu—frickin’ tackled me!” he protested, pointing at the German Shepherd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 23, 2020

The vertibird had brought them to just outside Red Rocket Truck Stop—a gas station that was close to a settlement MacCready had never been to before; and by the curious look on Danse’s face, neither had he.

Nora walked a bit ahead of them, leading the way as they neared a bridge, but Mac kept his distance from the tin can loser to his left, his eyes instead focused on the vault dweller’s ass—uh, _butt_ —since that was really the only thing worth looking at. The darn jumpsuit she wore had a strap that went between her legs that basically pushed between the cheeks a little, making her rear look _even bigger,_ and he just couldn’t stop sta—

Wait.

As they neared the bridge that Mac was absolutely _certain_ would collapse in the near future, one look at the Paladin made him wonder just how near in the future that _actually_ was.

“Yeah, hold on a second, Danse,” the mercenary said just before the trio reached the old bridge; both traveling companions turned to look at him, confusion written on their faces. “Can you just wait here for a minute while I cross so the bridge doesn’t break while I’m on it with you?”

Danse pursed his lips but stopped walking, eyebrows furrowed as he actually frickin’ _listened_ —which had to be the funniest thing in the entire world. But RJ could feel the heat of Nora’s glare even as he rounded her and stepped onto the bridge to cross over into the settlement, dodging a swipe of her hand.

“Don’t listen to him, Danse,” she said, her voice clearly annoyed. “The bridge is fine. You are _not_ going to break it.”

Mac snickered and dodged another swipe, sprinting across to the other side before the Paladin even set foot on the thing. “Alright, well, I won’t be the one to save you when you drown, boss!”

It was at that point he started walking ahead of them and down the cracked road, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder while he observed the rickety houses on either side of him. There was one empty concrete foundation directly to the left of the bridge they crossed, and another to the right a couple slots down; and just one more slot down from that was a house that looked like it had been repaired in numerous spots. A running generator sat outside, countless wires attached to it and leading off in different directions while bright lights shone from the building that drew MacCready in like a radmoth to a flame.

But before he was even able to reach the porch that held a workbench and power armor station, as well as a few other types of stations, something pounced on him and sent him toppling onto his back. The sniper had the wind knocked out of him and was almost seeing stars from his head thudding against the ground, but once he realized there was a creature pinning him down, growling in his face, and _drooling on him,_ he felt the blood drain from his cheeks as he turned pale. His fight or flight response kicked in and RJ reached a hand down to the knife at his thigh and was about to grab it when he heard Nora’s voice.

“Don’t you dare!” she yelled, quickly approaching from the direction he’d just come from. “Dogmeat, off,” she commanded, and that alone seemed to be all it took for the large canine to remove itself from atop MacCready’s chest; the mercenary scrambled to his feet with wide eyes even as Nora continued to scold him. “Were you really about to stab my dog, MacCready!?”

“The thing just fu—frickin’ tackled me!” he protested, pointing at the German Shepherd.

“Perhaps if you were paying more attention to your surroundings rather than insulting people because you are ashamed you do not measure up to their size, then you would have seen the dog through the window,” Danse observed, coming up behind Nora and patting the dog on the head.

And man, oh, man, that just got RJ’s blood boiling like gosh dang magma.

Blue eyes narrowed just slightly as he looked over to the Paladin, though he tried to keep his cool.

It didn’t work.

“Sorry, Danse, I know you must be upset about the fact you can’t really compensate with your tin can right now, considering it’s in the shop, and all. I’ll be a little more considerate of your feelings next time.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Nora stood quietly, listening to the two men bicker back and forth as she lovingly scratched Dogmeat’s ears. She debated on whether she should break it up or just let them hash it out—they hadn’t fully addressed the fact Danse walked in on her and Mac yet other than when she’d just yelled at the Paladin the next morning; and the two men hadn’t even talked at all other than basic greetings that were clearly strained and only for her benefit. But it seemed the result of that was going to be them throwing fists just as quickly as they threw words.

There would be only one winner, if that was the case.

“I can assure you I do not need my power armor to deal with you, _mercenary,”_ Danse spat, his fists clenching.

It became clear she needed to put an end to this show of bravado or whatever it was before it went any further. While Mac could easily sink a bullet between the Paladin’s eyes from 1,000 yards away, Danse had a clear advantage when up close since he was much taller and more muscular and had a hell of a lot more training in hand-to-hand combat. Plus, the last thing she wanted was to have to break up a fist fight between two men.

Again.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nora said firmly without raising her voice—something she’d learned from Arthur. The two stopped speaking but never broke eye contact with one another, though that only made her more frustrated and she pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “I guess we’re gonna have to talk this out _tonight,_ huh?” With a heavy, irritated sigh, the vaultie motioned for them to follow her. “Alright, come on.”

Danse was the first to break eye contact, glancing after Nora before shooting another glare at MacCready and following like he was told. Mac, of course, puffed his chest out triumphantly as if winning a staring contest was really something to boast about, but then followed, as well.

Taking the two of them into her house wasn’t something she was looking forward to since the mere idea of letting them set foot into the place where her and Nate once lived together made her heart ache, _especially_ to have this sort of talk, but it seemed like she was left with no choice anymore. Still, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open, only to come face-to-metal with Codsworth.

The vaultie and robot almost screamed at the same time, Codsworth following it up with an _’oh, my!’_

“Jesus, Codsworth. Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?” Nora asked, putting a hand to her chest to slow her thumping heart.

The Mister Handy gasped. “No, Mum! I would never do such a thing! I merely heard voices outside and went to investigate and, if necessary, give some intruders the ole’ one-two!” He flailed two of his robotic arms as if he were punching, which was seriously one of the most adorable things ever.

“Well, thank you for being so prepared. I know we’re safe with you around.”

“Why, you are very welcome, Mum!” he said gleefully as he floated backward a bit, allowing her to step into the house. The three eyestalks of his then shifted to focus on what was directly behind her, seeing the large Paladin as he stepped through the doorway. “Ah, Mister Danse! What a pleasure to—” but Codsworth gasped again without finishing his sentence, and Danse just cocked one eyebrow up as the robot stared at him; only when Nora questioned if he was alright did Codsworth finally sputter out what had cut him off. “Mum… Scribe Haylen… she was right!”

The vaultie nearly choked on air, letting out a heavy laugh as she remembered the bet she’d made with Codsworth on whether Danse was bald or had hair under his hood. They’d asked Scribe Haylen when they stopped by the police station one day and were told he did, in fact, have hair, which meant Nora had to wear the bowler hat.

“Yes. Yes, she was. He has a very nice head of hair, doesn’t he?” Nora had a grin plastered on her face as she looked over to the Paladin, whose face was deep red and really just seemed like he’d rather get eaten by a deathclaw—he must have thought _anything_ was better than this situation.

“Yeah, I have to agree, he does have nice hair,” Mac said from behind him.

“Do not touch it,” Danse snapped without even turning around; MacCready lowered his arm back to his side as if he _definitely_ wasn’t about to do just that.

Nora shook her head but returned her attention to the Mister Handy. “Codsworth, this is MacCready. I hired him back in Goodneighbor.” She motioned to the mercenary in the doorway and Codsworth’s eyestalks seemed to study the man for a long moment, as if he were suspicious. “MacCready, this is Codsworth, my Mister Handy. He’s been part of the family since—” she hesitated, “—well, since forever.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister MacCready,” the robot said, though his voice wasn’t nearly as chipper as it usually was. Mac just nonchalantly waved his hand in reply.

The vaultie then motioned to the living room where an old red couch and chair were placed on top of a ripped-up carpet. She moved the chair to be directly across from the couch before sitting in it, making the two men sit beside one another. They very clearly smooshed themselves to the complete opposite ends, making sure they were as far away from each other as possible; like two protons or two electrons, they repelled. Codsworth, on the other hand, floated back into the kitchen to continue scrubbing the floors and counters despite knowing they would never be cleaned and spotless again.

“Alright,” Nora began, glancing between the two, “You both need to get over this shit and you need to get over it _fast,_ because I don’t think I can deal with the fighting. I need you on my team if I’m going to find my son, and that means you can’t be doing this. You have to be able to work together.”

Danse’s dark eyes stared at the ground, almost as if he were ashamed, but MacCready was glaring at the wall with his arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child; it showed his age.

Nora huffed, her frustration growing. “Okay, fine. I’ll start. I’m pissed at _both_ of you—” she held up a finger when the two men attempted to protest, as if they thought she didn’t have a right to be pissed; it quieted them, “—Because you can’t act like fucking _adults.”_ Her eyes turned to Mac first, and he met her with a soft glare. “You don’t get to keep poking and prodding at Danse just because you know it pisses him off. You either get your ass into gear and make your caps or you go the fuck back to Goodneighbor, because I won’t tolerate you acting like a goddamn _child_ and fucking up my chances on finding my son.”

“And you,” she said as she turned her attention to Danse, seeing his jaw tense beneath the scruff on his face when she addressed him, “You already know why I’m pissed at you, but I’m going to say it again. Yes, I had sex with MacCready.” There was a loud clatter from the kitchen; Codsworth dropped something, apparently startled from her revelation. She’d address it later. “Twice now, actually, and it was pretty fucking good. And yeah, maybe I should have warned you the first time since you knew I was drinking and still upset after the whole thing with Kellogg, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like a jealous boyfriend.”

Nora let the two men sit silently for a few moments as she leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs at the knees. Danse was still staring at the ground and MacCready glaring at the wall, and she wondered if her words even made an impact on either of them.

“Well, I feel better,” she admitted, slapping her hands onto the armrests of the chair. “Anyone else?” But when there were still no responses or reactions, Nora just rolled her eyes and stood; she’d had enough. “Alright, well, whenever you boys are done brooding, you can either meet me in the house across the street and I’ll introduce you to everyone or you can get the fuck out of my settlement. I already have one child to worry about; I don’t need two more.”


	14. Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You will _not_ speak right now, Parker,” he snarled. He still wasn’t yelling—he never did—but she figured she might have just preferred it if he screamed at her rather than slammed his hand on the table and spoke to her in that low, threatening tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 26, 2020

For the next three weeks, Nora and Danse went on numerous missions together around the Commonwealth. Some of them included fetching materials for Ingram so she could finish their power armor modifications while others were at Preston’s request, but overall, they kept themselves busy the entire time. 

And really, it was less stressful than the very first day they’d arrived at Sanctuary since Danse and MacCready managed to get over their differences and even started to get along—though she was certain it was mostly because they avoided one another as often as possible and only made small talk when they absolutely had to, even if just for show. They’d agreed to cooperating, which made her happy, and they seemed to be doing okay for the most part whenever they were around one another, but she still tried to keep them separated as often as possible, which was why she opted to taking one on a mission and leaving the other at Sanctuary. It gave her some relief to be away from the remaining tension since the two wouldn’t be together to silently bicker or make situations awkward anymore. She needed to be free of drama for a while.

Well, until she realized she’d escaped one storm and was heading into another.

Then again, that storm was _her_ this time.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

As soon as the vertibird had docked, Nora immediately bolted from it, avoiding Arthur and Kells and dodging anyone who tried to speak to her as she stormed the quartermaster’s cage. She’d had a sweet smile plastered on her lips when she’d approached the Proctor, drawing him in with the false pretense of being kind and possibly doing some work for him, but it soon proved to be a farce as she revealed her claws and teeth and spat venom in his eyes so she could rip out his jugular.

Nora always went for the throat.

“I will _not_ allow you to steal from my settlements or any other settlement!” she yelled, smashing the tip of her index finger onto the countertop that acted as a barrier between her and Teagan. 

He’d insulted her at least twice since she’d approached him only a few minutes ago, and he should have known how lucky he was to be stuck in that damned cage and behind a locked door; otherwise, she would have socked him straight in the mouth. 

To be fair, she could probably still reach him.

The quartermaster narrowed his eyes and slammed his fist onto the same counter, the action echoing with a loud _thud_ throughout the metal airship. Brotherhood soldiers surrounded them by now, quietly observing the fight, whispering amongst themselves and trying to determine what the outcome would be. A Knight arguing like this with a Proctor, especially in public view, was not a good thing.

Danse was to her right, trying to calm her down after the attempt to order her to leave it be as her CO did absolutely nothing; he put a bare hand on her shoulder, but she just shrugged it off.

And even Ingram, who Nora generally enjoyed the company of, was to her left, trying to calm them both down by speaking in a soft tone. “Both of you, please,” she said, raising her hands while shuffling from one foot to the other. “Just stop this.”

“No,” Nora snapped, turning to the lone female Proctor. “This asshole is attempting to _steal_ from my settlements, Ingram.” The vaultie then returned her gaze back to her target—she only saw red. “How did you phrase it, Teagan? _’By any means necessary’?_ That’s called fucking theft and it’s a load of deathclaw shit.”

Ingram shot a glare over to the quartermaster, but the man didn’t back down; instead, he firmly placed the palms of his hands on the counter and leaned toward Nora in a threatening pose as he spoke in a low tone. “Brotherhood soldiers are more important than some filthy Commonwealth scavvers,” he spat.

How dare he? How fucking _dare_ he?

Before she even realized what she was doing, Nora was on her tiptoes and lunging forward, grabbing Teagan by the front of his suit and yanking him down toward her, pulling him face-to-face. “I’m a nice person, Teagan. I help a lot of people. But I draw the fucking line at stealing from innocents, do you understand me?”

“Parker.” The voice came from behind her, but she was too enraged to even hear it.

“If I catch or even hear about a single Brotherhood soldier approaching any settlement under Minutemen control with the intention or direction of taking food without adequate compensation, then I will be paying you a _personal_ visit—”

“Parker,” the voice from behind her said again, but she still paid it no mind.

“—And we’ll see _exactly_ how much you enjoy having _your_ shit taken from you. Specifically, your fucking balls.”

_”Parker.”_

While her name wasn’t yelled, it was said in a much sharper and very _specific_ tone; that was enough to catch her attention. She released Teagan’s suit and shifted onto the flats of her feet, then spun around.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

When she’d turned to face him, there was a smile on her lips, but it was filled with rage. “Elder Maxson,” she greeted in a much kinder tone than she’d just been using with his Proctor. It was almost like she was a totally different person, but he knew why she was doing it.

Arthur tipped his chin up and clasped his hands behind his back. “May I ask what is going on here?”

“It’s your ship, isn’t it?” 

Ingram’s eyebrows raised while Danse cursed beneath his breath. Maxson’s expression, however, didn’t falter as he kept his gaze on her; their eye contact was almost turning into a staring contest. Was she really challenging him? She knew better. And yet…

“Proctor Teagan, report,” he ordered.

Teagan huffed a bit, clearly displeased with how the Elder allowed Nora to get away with treating her superiors the way she did. He wasn’t wrong, either—she did get away with a lot. “Knight Parker here is unhappy with how I conduct business securing food from settlements in the Commonwealth.”

“What he means, Elder, is I do not approve of him _stealing_ food from settlements, especially when people are already struggling to survive. I told the Proctor if he needs food for the soldiers, he should compensate the settlements adequately for their crops and not _steal_ from them.”

“Knight Parker—” Teagan began, but snapped his jaw shut when Arthur flicked his eyes up to him. There was an almost challenging look on the Proctor’s face, but he let it slide.

_”General_ Parker is correct,” the Elder said. “You will either compensate the settlers for their food _if_ they are willing to part with it or leave them be. We are not _thieves,_ Proctor Teagan.”

Teagan’s jaw tensed, but he just nodded his head once, and the action allowed Arthur’s eyes to return to Nora, who was still staring up at him with that same look of rage deep in her smile.

“General Parker—a word in private, please.” He turned and stepped to the side, holding his arm out to direct her. “My quarters.”

Nora stood still for a long moment, eyeing him, as if unsure if she wanted to grant him his request, but when he just patiently waited for her to move, she finally conceded and began to cross the ship to his room.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

As soon as they were inside, Arthur shut and locked the door before stepping around her and removing his coat. He folded it and draped it over the back of one of the chairs at the table, then started toward his desk— _jesus fuck look at that ass._ Her eyes dropped as his back was to her and her eyebrows raised; she couldn’t pull her gaze away. She’d never really gotten a good look at his ass before since he was almost always facing her unless he was wearing his coat, but _damn._ The Elder clearly didn’t skip… what was it? Squat day? Ass day?

_They should just call it Arthur day._

But she was caught staring when he turned around, and her gaze snapped up to his face to see one eyebrow cocked at her. Nora tried not to smirk, pushing her lips together in an attempt to hide it but it only made the feature more apparent.

He didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Your insubordination today was far beyond unacceptable, Knight,” he said before taking a drink from a glass of liquor he poured. “It seems you need to learn how to behave as a Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

That was when the not-so-well-hidden smirk faltered while her eyebrows knitted together, confusion washing over her face. Was she actually in trouble?

“Arthur—” she began but was cut off when his palm slammed flat on the table, the loud sound reverberating off the walls and almost vibrating inside her head. Nora flinched and stepped back to where she was pressed against the closed bulkhead behind her. What was it with people hitting things today? She’d never seen Arthur angry like this before, but it was fucking _terrifying._

“You will _not_ speak right now, Parker,” he snarled. He still wasn’t yelling—he never did—but she figured she might have just preferred it if he screamed at her rather than slammed his hand on the table and spoke to her in that low, threatening tone.

She quickly nodded her head in understanding, and Arthur then closed his eyes and raised that same hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as if he needed to calm himself down; but after sighing, he opened his eyes again and looked over to her, glancing her up and down.

“Come here,” he ordered, pointing a finger to the ground beside his desk after setting his glass on the table.

Nora hesitated, however; she was almost afraid of what he would do to her if she obeyed, but even more afraid of what he’d do to her if she _dis_ obeyed. This wasn’t like the Arthur she’d been fucking the past three weeks; this wasn’t like the Arthur she knew. Then again, she didn’t really know him, did she?

But he waited patiently just like before, his finger pointing at the ground, sky blue eyes staring at her expectantly. With a heavy gulp, she slowly moved forward and into the spot he was pointing at, her back to the rest of the room.

“Put your hands flat on the desk,” he directed.

The vaultie bit her lower lip but obeyed, leaning forward to put her palms on the furniture, which made her bend over slightly. She turned her head to look at him as he was now behind her but snapped her eyes forward almost immediately after with his words.

“Keep your eyes straight ahead, Parker,” Maxson growled.

She was used to him using her last name since he never called her by her first name; it was always _’Parker’_ or _’Knight Parker.’_ But something about the way he was saying it now…

The slow _thud, thud, thudding_ of his boots across the metal floor were the only thing she could hear, and it kept her from pinning his exact location behind her, making her anxious. What was he doing? What was he _planning?_

But when he spoke, the sound of his voice helped quell the anxiety even if the words confused her.

“Do you know the difference between ‘punishment’ and ‘discipline,’ pet?”

Pet? That was… new. It had her fumbling with her words. She blinked a few times, trying to gather the answer to his question from wherever it was hidden in her brain. “Uh…” 

“Three seconds.”

_Shit._

“Punishment is usually, um, a harsh reaction to something immoral or unethical. Discipline is a way to…” she paused, swallowing hard, “Train or correct someone for… disobedience.”

Oh.

Oh, _fuck._

“That is correct, yes. When my soldiers are disobedient or insubordinate, they are disciplined, not punished. They train harder, receive menial tasks, and the like. However, if they commit acts that put the lives of their brothers and sisters or the Brotherhood as a whole in danger, or do something to break my trust, then they are punished. This means they get sent to the brig, or worse.”

She felt her heart speed up.

“You will be disciplined for your insubordination, Parker. But because of our arrangement, I’ve chosen something more appropriate than what I would give regular soldiers.”

“What, um… what did you choose?” she quietly asked.

Rather than answering right away, however, a heavy body was suddenly pressed against her back, fingers sliding to the front of her jumpsuit and aggressively pulling the zipper down; it sent a wave of panic through her body, rattling her nerves. What the fuck was happening? Was she actually in trouble or not? Maxson yanked the jumpsuit off her shoulders, down one arm and then the other, being sure she put her hands back where they were before he pushed it down to her knees.

“I’m going to spank you for each rule you broke,” he finally answered, pushing her underwear down to join her jumpsuit. “And these are rules you know well because we’ve spoken about them just as many times as you’ve broken them.”

Heat ran through her body. “How many did I break?”

“How many do you think?”

Her bra was suddenly undone and pulled off her arms, tossed somewhere behind her, leaving her standing almost completely naked except for the knees down. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Two.”

Two spanks… didn’t sound so bad. He’d spanked her before when they fucked, but he never really hit her very hard, so even if he did so this time, it probably wouldn’t be _that_ bad, right?

“Okay.”

“Good. And what is the safe word?”

“Cram.”

“Very good.”

His front was pressed against her back still as his hand slid to her throat, thumb and forefinger directing her chin so she turned her head and tipped it back enough to where their lips met as soon as she did—but he only kissed her briefly before pulling away. “I want to hear you say what you did wrong and what you will do differently next time. Do you understand me?”

Nora felt her face flush deep red as she suddenly felt very childish, but she nodded again, quickly following it up with a _’yes, sir’_ before she broke _another_ rule, even if that one was more private.

“Now, what was the first thing you did wrong?” he asked.

“I fought with Proctor Teagan,” she admitted quietly after thinking it over.

Arthur’s hand abruptly came down on her ass cheek, palm flat, a loud _crack_ following the connection, and Nora cried out from the sudden pain that she mostly expected but was still caught off guard from.

The swat was _much_ harder than he’d ever hit her ass before.

“Good,” he praised from beside her. “And what will you do differently next time?”

Biting her lower lip, tears formed in the corners of her eyes from the stinging pain. “Bring any concerns I have straight to you,” she said through a cracked voice.

The same hand that had struck her ass touched the same cheek again, but his fingers were smoothing over the handprint he’d left this time, helping to ease the stinging pain. “Good girl,” he crooned, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her shoulder. Nora sighed softly, allowing her eyes to slip closed from the slight relief and comfort—but they weren’t even closed for long before she was caught. “That makes three rules, Parker.”

Her eyes grew wide at that, jaw dropping. “What!?” she squeaked before she was even able to stop herself.

“Four.”

The vaultie snapped her mouth shut, clenching her jaw, and glared straight ahead.

“I told you to keep your eyes straight ahead. And you know to wait until you are spoken to.” Arthur’s hand was still rubbing the first handprint. “Now, what was the second rule you broke?” he asked, moving on.

“I disrespected you in front of others,” she said through gritted teeth.

His hand smacked against her other ass cheek—the left one—a little harder than he had the first time, and she lunged forward just slightly at the pain but tried not to make any noise; she was unsuccessful.

“And what will you do differently next time?”

“I will be respectful and take my concerns up with you in private.”

“Good girl.” Maxson stroked his fingers over the spot he’d smacked as he placed kisses along her shoulder blade, giving her a couple moments to relax before he continued. “And the third?”

“I closed my eyes.” Another swat, back on the right cheek. She let out a shaky exhale.

“And what will you do differently next time?”

“Keep my eyes open.”

“Good girl,” he praised. More kisses were placed while he started rubbing where he hit, soothing the spot. “Now, the fourth.”

“I spoke out of turn.” A fourth smack, back to the left cheek. But this time, he didn’t even get to ask what she’d do differently before she offered up the correction herself. “I will wait until I’m spoken to.”

“Five.”

Nora’s jaw dropped and she dug her nails into the desk, scraping them across the metal.

“I didn’t ask what you’d do differently, yet you felt the need to speak out of turn regardless,” he explained.

Nora took a deep inhale, trying to calm her breathing, but this mixture of pain and pleasure and fucking _rage_ was making her crazy.

“Now, if you’re done breaking the rules, this will be the final one,” he said as he pressed his lips to her shoulder.

“I—” she began but wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase it, “I did not learn my lesson.”

Maxson’s hand didn’t come down on her ass that time, though; instead, she felt him smile against her shoulder. “And what will you do differently?” he asked with his lips pressed against her skin.

“Obey,” she whispered.

“Very good girl,” he crooned, placing soft kisses to her shoulder. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, his fingers rubbing over the fresh handprints to soothe them.

“No, sir.”

But when a hand was suddenly wrapping around her throat again, bringing them both to stand up straight—well, bringing _her_ to stand up straight because he still had to hunch over—as he started kissing just below her ear, she felt his hips pushing his erection against her lower back, his upper thighs rubbing against the sensitive skin he’d just brutalized over and over with his hands.

“Mm, do you feel that?”

Nora bit her lip and tried not to close her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she answered while pushing her ass back into him despite how it only made the stinging worse.

“That’s what you do to me, Nora. Every time you’re around me, my dick gets hard because I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.” His free hand slid between her legs, cupping her, and she could only gasp. “How does it feel knowing you can make a man of my stature hard as a fucking rock just by walking in the room?”

Her hands slid back to rest on his hips while she tipped her head back against his chest, her eyes finally closing—he didn’t scold her, thankfully. “Powerful,” she whispered; she felt him grin against her.

“Good. You _should_ feel powerful. But I don’t want you to forget I control this—I control _you.”_ His teeth clamped down on the skin that connected her shoulder and neck, coaxing a loud moan from her throat; and once the skin was released, Maxson dragged the flat of his tongue up from the spot he bit at to her ear before letting her go completely. “Take the rest of your suit off and get on your knees.”

Immediately, Nora pushed her boots and suit off before turning around and meeting his gaze, then dropping to her knees in front of him, keeping eye contact. Maxson undressed, as well, both of them soon being completely naked—which meant his cock was free and right in front of her face. 

But she refused to look at it and instead bit her bottom lip again, waiting for his directions. That, alone, seemed to please him. 

“You’re learning, pet,” there was that pet name again, “It seems you do know something other than just how to be disobedient. I’m proud,” he purred. “Now, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Nora’s mouth opened, her tongue lolling out for him. She felt the head of his cock slide against it though she kept her gaze up; he didn’t slip himself between her lips, though, only rubbing his shaft along her tongue at first, teasing—but whether he was teasing her or himself, she had no idea.

“Do you want to suck my cock?” he asked, and she nodded. But when he pulled away, she furrowed her eyebrows. “Beg for it.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

“Let me suck your cock.”

“Try again.”

Parker huffed, growing frustrated. “Please let me suck your cock.”

“Who are you asking.”

Her eyes narrowed as if she were ready to punch him and it only made him smirk; she was getting more and more impatient by the second. It was cute. “Please let me suck your cock, _Sir.”_

“Good girl,” he praised. “Open your mouth again.” Once she did, he slid himself between her lips, exhaling with pleasure at the feel of her soft tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft.

Parker made a quiet moan against him, the sound vibrating into his cock, and he groaned from the feel of it. One of his hands slid into her hair, fingers threading into the red locks, before he started moving her head back and forth, guiding her with his hand. It was slow at first to get her used to being led, having allowed her to take the lead every time she’d sucked him off before now; and he even hit her gag reflex a couple times just to see how far he could go while he had control.

But before he went any further, he stopped, though didn’t pull himself from her mouth, just keeping his cock in but not deep enough to gag her. Their eyes met and he brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face.

“I’ve let you go at your own pace every time you’ve done this so far, but that changes tonight. I will not be gentle, but I also won’t overwhelm you. If it becomes too much, I want you to tap my thigh three times with your hand. Show me you understand by doing it.” Parker tapped his thigh three times and he ran his fingers along her jaw. “Good girl,” he praised. “What I’m going to do is gag you by shoving my cock down your throat; this is part of your discipline, and I expect you to swallow when I cum. Do you understand?” She tapped his thigh three times again. “Very good.”

Slowly, the Elder started moving her head back and forth again before suddenly shoving her nose to his groin and forcing her to deepthroat him. Parker gagged around his cock and pushed against his thighs reflexively as he groaned, but he pulled back completely after a second to let himself slip free from her mouth, leaving strings of saliva hanging between his cock and her lips as she gasped for air, her eyes closing for a moment.

_Smack._

The slap to her cheek wasn’t hard but it was sharp enough to catch her attention. Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him, brow furrowed while some expression that was partially confusion washed over her face. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the spot before bending over to kiss her roughly, holding it for only a moment. “Keep your eyes on me. I won’t tell you again.”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir,” she mumbled.

But he stopped, staring down at her and studying her face before he lowered himself to a crouch, though he never actually let go of her hair. “Is it too much? I should have asked first.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” she said quietly while shaking her head.

Something was wrong, though, even if she didn’t admit it—and that fact alone made him uncomfortable to continue. Normally, he didn’t care for slapping and only did it if it was requested, but there was something about Parker…

“I think we’re done for the night,” he replied, finally releasing her hair.

But his vault dweller reached up and grabbed his wrist before he fully pulled away, her eyes pleading. “Please, Arthur. I need this. I—I can’t explain it, but I need it, okay?”

“Parker, I don’t think you’re in a good place for how we have sex,” he said quietly, his free hand reaching up to cup her jaw. He was trying to comfort her even though he didn’t really know _how._

“Just… please, Arthur. I like this, okay? I like it when you’re rough. It makes me feel grounded.”

He studied her face for a long moment before leaning in to kiss her gently; but after pulling away, Maxson sighed. “Maybe tomorrow, pet,” he murmured.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Nora reached up and abruptly swiped her hand across his cheek, forcing his head to the side and making him lose his balance since he was crouched. He caught himself on his hand when he fell on his ass, and there was a change in his eyes as he looked at her again—but his look was met with a glare.

“No, _tonight,”_ she growled.

From there, it all happened so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to process it until she was on the table on her back.

Arthur had pushed himself to his feet, one hand grabbing her around her throat and pulling her up with him before he started making her walk backward toward the table. She’d grasped his wrist and forearm as they moved, and as they reached the table, he swiped his free arm across the top of it to knock everything off, then grabbed onto the back of one of her legs to lift her by her leg and throat, hoisting her onto the table—only to push her right onto her back.

Circling the table, Maxson grabbed onto her upper arm and yanked so her head and shoulders were hanging off the edge, his cock pressed to her lips; but when she refused to open her mouth, his hand came down on her cheek once more. She gasped, and that was all he needed to shove himself in to the hilt, her chin pressing against his groin and her nose against his balls, the motion of making her deepthroat him much more fluid and easier since her throat was a straight path due to her position. She still gagged around him, of course, but he didn’t pull out right away, instead letting her choke for a few seconds before slipping free.

Nora coughed, her face a bright red; her knees were bent, and legs spread, hoping he would touch her pussy, but they both knew he wasn’t about to do that because this was more discipline—though this time it was probably for striking him. One of his hands went to her breast and squeezed roughly while the other went down to her throat, cupping it as he forced himself back into her mouth and began fucking it. She was sure he could feel himself sliding in and out of her throat with where his hand was placed.

Maxson groaned and hilted himself in her mouth once more, holding there before pulling out completely to let her breathe again. She coughed like before, gasping for breath, but he paid it no mind while he pinched one nipple and leaned over to bite at the other. But, Nora being Nora, she was always eager to please and immediately took him back into her mouth on her own volition, caving her cheeks as she sucked hard while her nails dug into the skin on his thighs, scratching up toward his groin before she grabbed onto his hips; Arthur moaned against her breast, his hips moving to fuck her face again.

The Elder soon released her nipple with a loud _pop_ and took a shaky breath as he kept fucking her mouth. “I’m gonna cum soon, pet,” he warned, standing up straight so he could look down and watch her take him from such a different angle. “I want you to swallow all of it. If you let any of it— _mmm_ —if you let any of it drip out of your mouth, I’ll make you lick it off the fucking floor. Do I make myself clear?”

She made a low noise around him in confirmation.

Soon enough, he was shoving all the way in and coming down her throat with a quiet moan. Nora swallowed around the head of his cock while his hips made small, involuntary thrusts; but as soon as he finished coming, he pulled out, letting her breathe again.

Lucky for her, she swallowed every last drop.

After a few more gasps and coughs, he helped her sit up on the table before grasping her hips and pulling them toward him. The vaultie grabbed onto the wooden furniture, nails dragging across it as she tried to keep herself from sliding toward him, but with her knees tucked beneath her and her ass pointing right at him, that was all he needed. Two fingers were suddenly shoved into her soaking cunt and she immediately moaned, her body jerking forward before she started pushing back against his hand; being in a sort of fetal position just gave him easy access.

“We’re not done yet,” he growled before crooking his fingers to search for that sensitive bundle of nerves.

By now, he knew _exactly_ where it was, so he had no problem finding it; and as soon as his fingers were on it, she gasped and clenched around him. Her noises only seemed to make him more determined, however, because he rubbed and stroked at that sensitive spot until she was keening, his free hand roughly grasping her hip.

Nora couldn’t stop herself when she reached down between her legs to rub at her clit while he kept fingering her—and both types of stimulation had her flying over the edge so damn quickly.

“Oh, god, Arthur, fuck, fuck, _fuckfuckfuckfuckyes!”_ she keened, her thighs trembling.

But he didn’t stop there. Even as she stopped rubbing her clit, he kept fingering her, pressing _even harder_ against her sweet spot—at least until he slowed down so he could work a third finger into her; but as soon as it was in, he was back to fucking her roughly on them. “You’re gonna cum for me one more time, pet,” he growled. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again.”

Nora absently nodded against the table, returning her fingers to her clit as she panted, and was once again sent over the edge, moaning his name.

The Elder slipped his fingers from her while she was still pulsing and shifted behind her—but before she could even regain herself to turn around to see what he was doing, he rammed his cock back into her, balls deep, in one motion. This man had the shortest refractory period she’d ever seen. _Fuck._

A yelp escaped her while her fingers firmly curled around the edge of the table, gripping, as he didn’t give her much time to adjust—his cock was thicker than his fingers, after all—but instead just began pounding into her. Strong hands were at her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust as he fucked her roughly, drawing out more moans while he was rubbing against her sweet spot—fuck, she was starting to get close again already.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum again!” she mewled.

His thrusts slowed, however, and instead, he pulled out a bit slower, only to use more force when pushing into her, changing his angle just enough to hit that spot—and it sent her straight over the edge. Nora felt her eyes roll back as she came around him, her hot cheek pressing against the cool table.

_”Mmmmfuck,”_ he groaned. 

When she came down from the high of her orgasm, the hands on her hips pulled her backward, making her legs fall off the table so her feet were planted on the ground—well, she was on her tiptoes, really. One of his hands then went to the back of her neck, holding her down as he started to pick up his pace again; Nora allowed her eyes to close as she relished in the bliss of getting fucked out, but apparently Arthur was able to see, and he wasn’t happy about it, because his palm came down against her ass cheek in a hard _crack,_ and she yelped as her eyes opened wide.

“Arthur.” Her voice was fairly whiny but still soft as she tried to turn her head to look at him. “I want to see you.” At first, she wasn’t even sure if he’d heard her, but realized he did when he pulled out and then rolled her onto her back, pushing her more onto the table so she wasn’t hanging off as much, only to shove himself back in.

Nora keened again, her eyes traveling over the expanse of dark hair that covered the Elder’s chest and belly as he fucked her. This man would have made some perfect god of war, that much was clear—or god of sex.

One of his hands went to her thigh, spreading her open, while the other was at her throat, grabbing without squeezing; she grasped his wrist, her other hand threading fingers into the hair on his belly.

God, the way he grabbed her was almost _possessive._

“Fuck, Parker,” he groaned, his thrusts faltering as he neared his climax. _”Mmmshit,_ I’m gonna cum.”

Her eyes flicked up to his face then as she panted, legs wrapping tighter around his hips to urge him to finish; and after a few more thrusts, he pulled out, using the hand he had on her thigh to stroke himself until he strung his spend all over her stomach.

They both remained still, panting, his eyes having fallen closed. Nora took a moment to admire the way he looked—exhausted, sweaty, his hair no longer brushed back but now all on one side and partially in his face. She couldn’t stop herself from running her palm up his stomach and through the damp hair on his abdomen, feeling his muscles contract with each breath he took.

It was only when she whispered his name that he looked down at her. Arthur pulled her up to a sitting position, watching her intently, likely to see if she was in pain. After a couple seconds, however, he placed a gentle kiss to her lips, his hand snaking around to the back of her neck as their foreheads pressed together.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she answered.


	15. Dependent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you leaving?” she asked, her voice quiet and eyebrows furrowed.
> 
> “It’s still early,” he answered. “My workday is not yet over.”
> 
> “But…” Parker— _Nora_ —looked away from him as she hesitated like she was disappointed. “You usually lay with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN MAY 31, 2020

After they regained themselves, Arthur had scooped her up into his arms and held her tightly against his chest, her legs spreading to wrap around his hips and her arms over his shoulders. He was careful not to put his hands on her ass to hold her up—no, she was far too tender there for that—but instead had wrapped one of his own arms around her middle, his other hand going to one of her thighs. He’d given her the choice of showering or lying down while he cleaned her, and the vault dweller opted for the shower with the explanation of never getting the chance to stand under hot water anymore; to be fair, the water wasn’t actually hot, more lukewarm, but he understood, regardless.

So, he carried her into the bathroom that was connected to his quarters, being careful in his movements as he did.

The bathroom wasn’t anything fancy, of course—just a place for him to do his business and go. It was small, and directly across from the bulkhead that led from his room was a shower and tub combination with a sliding door; to the left of the door was a sink and mirror, and to the right of the sink was a toilet. A few items were scattered around—scissors, a straight razor, among other things—but they remained in an orderly fashion, just like his room.

He was gentle when he set her in the tub, closing the shower door behind him before reaching around to turn the water on. It was cool at first and Parker squeaked in surprise, but it quickly warmed up, allowing her to settle beneath the stream.

With her back to him, Maxson gently ran his callused hands over her skin, rinsing off the layer of sweat she’d accumulated during their session, as well as wiping his cum off her stomach and sliding his fingers between her thighs to help clean her own cum from her, though she jolted away with a whine. He even tenderly smoothed his fingers over her ass to help soothe the sting she still likely felt from how hard and how much he’d spanked her, leaving red handprints on her pale skin from where his palms had connected. 

She was sensitive all over, he could tell; but just like every time before when they fucked, he took care of her—he didn’t want her to drop.

Soft kisses were placed along her shoulders and he spent a little more time kissing the spots where he’d left dark bruises—but some of them he’d recognized from the last time they fucked, which was a few days ago, so she must not have taken a stimpack since then.

“You did very well tonight, pet,” he crooned against her.

“… You scared me at first,” she admitted after a couple seconds of silence, her body leaning back against him.

Maxson wrapped his arms around her body, holding her close to his chest, though he continued placing gentle kisses to her shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You should have talked to me about what you wanted beforehand.”

Arthur sighed against her skin. “I know,” he repeated and trailed kisses up to just beneath her ear. “I’m sorry, Parker. I’m not the best at communicating about the more… personal aspects, including when it comes to what I want during sex. I’ll keep working on it, I promise.”

“Okay,” she whispered, but he wasn’t sure if she was really satisfied with his reply or not.

They were quiet for a long few moments as he held her, the stream of water still beating down upon her chest before sliding down her body and pooling in the bottom of the tub. Maxson had leaned up to stand a bit straighter, his jaw gently pressing against the side of her head while his eyes closed, and he listened to her breathing. It was… comforting, somehow. 

And yet, he knew this would only bring trouble.

His aftercare wasn’t entirely intimate with previous subs; they’d never required much, really, even when he adapted to what they needed and preferred. Water, a bit of praise, clean up, tending to any wounds, maybe some cuddling here and there, but otherwise it never went beyond that—they didn’t drop when he got it right, and the most intimate thing he did was cuddling.

But when it came to Parker, she needed more than what he was used to giving— _a lot_ more. He realized it fairly early on that he wasn’t giving her enough during aftercare, but rather than cutting her off and finding another sub who was far less complicated, he found himself searching for ways to accommodate his methods to fit her needs even when it became uncomfortable for him because it was _intimate._

“Nora.”

Her voice was quiet, but it brought him out of his own head; he furrowed his brows without opening his eyes. “Mm?”

“My name. I mean, you know it, but you just… never use it.”

“Ah. I suppose I don’t.”

“Will you?”

Maxson swallowed hard though he never pulled away from her, his jaw gently pressed against the side of her head. He wanted to tell her that no, he would not use her first name because it meant their agreement became much more _personal,_ and that was risky. He knew she was vulnerable to becoming clingy and wanting more, but he’d avoided using first names with most of his previous subs—he couldn’t change that now. He was already changing so much of his routine and methods _just for her._

“Yes.”

Fuck.

She turned to face him, their bodies still pressed together as their eyes locked, and she threaded her fingers into the wet hair on his chest. “So, I have another question,” she said quietly before tearing her gaze away, settling it on her hands.

That didn’t sound good, but he held her close, regardless. “Go on.”

“Is it… normal to enjoy it? Being hit?”

Arthur knew she’d never given up control during sex before him—she’d clarified that the first time they were alone together, when they intended to fuck but he’d only ate her out—but he wasn’t sure exactly how far she and her late husband had gone into that sort of territory. It was clearly an uncomfortable thought for her, judging by how her voice sounded.

Gently, he took ahold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger, making her look at him. “Yes, it is.”

“You weren’t happy when I hit you, though.”

A slight smile broke his lips. “It’s different for me because I’m the one in control. Me hitting you is asserting my control over you and the situation—but you hitting me is your attempt to take it back. And if you’ve learned anything about me, pet, it should be that I don’t enjoy not having control.” 

Arthur shifted them around so he could move beneath the stream of water a bit more, wiping his own cum off his front—it’d gotten onto him when he’d picked her up and carried her into the bathroom—as well as cleaning his cock and groin off. It only took a few seconds before he shut the water off and turned to open the shower door.

“Come,” he said, patting her hip and nudging her out of the tub. “You need to rest.”

When they were both out, he took the liberty of gently drying her off first, then himself, before leading her back to the bed. He helped her lay down and get comfortable, but didn’t climb onto the mattress himself—that, she was quick to notice.

“Are you leaving?” she asked, her voice quiet and eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s still early,” he answered. “My workday is not yet over.”

“But…” Parker— _Nora_ —looked away from him as she hesitated like she was disappointed. “You usually lay with me.”

That made the Elder pause and he glanced to the alarm clock on his nightstand and then the door, almost debating if he had the time to lay with her or not. He didn’t want to leave her if she wasn’t ready, but he also knew he couldn’t be gone for long; he’d already taken his time with her during sex and Kells would come knocking if he wasn’t back soon. But, of course, he conceded—this woman got much more out of him than any other had before; something about her made him bend to her will much quicker and easier than he did anyone else.

“Alright,” he quietly conceded before climbing into the bed and laying behind her. He curved his body around her back, arms wrapping around her like usual—one under her neck that crossed over her chest and the other draped over her side and abdomen, both holding her close.

The side of his face rested against her neck as he held her, their feet tangled, and they were silent for a few minutes before Nora spoke, her voice just above a whisper.

“I never apologized for the way I acted after… you know, the first time.”

Ah. When she’d entered the observation deck and seemed terrified of him.

“I assumed you had your reasons. I thought maybe I had hurt you or scared you.”

“It wasn’t anything you did. It’s just…” she hesitated but released a shaky breath. “That night, I had a dream I was back in the vault, but I was in my husband’s place, holding my son; and Kellogg, the mercenary who killed my husband, opened my pod and threatened me just like he had Nate. They tried to take my baby from me, but I wouldn’t let them. I… got to say goodbye, finally.”

Arthur pulled her closer, holding her tightly against him, trying to comfort her with soft kisses to her shoulder. He could hear her voice shaking as she tried not to cry; if she was getting emotional, he needed to figure out how to help, but he never really understood how to handle emotional people. They were complicated.

“But when I looked at Kellogg again, his face had changed. I don’t know why, but…” she paused and sniffled, “It was you.”

The Elder’s eyebrows furrowed, and he wanted to pull away but resisted the urge; instead, he remained still and held her tightly. This wasn’t about him—it was about her. And even if it wasn’t, he knew he couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —deny her the aftercare she needed just because of what she was telling him. Still, if she saw him as the man who tore her family apart, that seemed like a sort of bad omen.

“Do I look like him?” he asked quietly.

“No, not at all. He was bald and a lot older. He had a beard, but it was grey and shorter than yours. I mean, the only similarity would be the scar he had on his face, but it was bigger and on the other side.”

He remained quiet, trying to picture what the man looked like, but his silence seemed to worry her.

“You don’t scare me, Arthur,” she whispered. “I mean, some of the things you _do_ scare me, but… you, yourself, don’t.” When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “You can leave if you want.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because if this is what helps you and keeps you from dropping, then I want to do it. You’re going into the Glowing Sea tomorrow, and the last thing anyone needs is for you to drop because I didn’t take care of you properly.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

Danse suspiciously eyed the bruise on Parker’s neck, the collar of her vault suit not hiding it at all as the dark mass stood out against cobalt blue fabric and pale skin. She shot him a warning glare before he looked away and back to Ingram, who was speaking about the power armor modifications she’d made and was motioning to the two modified suits that were sitting in the bay.

“This should help significantly reduce your radiation intake in the Glowing Sea. You’ll still want to take a lot of RadAway and Rad-X, but the power armor suits with their modifications will help reduce the chance you _get_ sick and _how quickly_ you get sick.”

His eyes strayed over to Parker as she nodded her head, then dropped to the bruise again—she shot him another glare. The look said she was probably going to have a talk with him later on and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to it.

“So, are we clear to depart tomorrow?” the Paladin asked, arms crossing over his chest.

“Yes, everything is all set. You’ll have enough supplies to survive an entire week, assuming nothing goes terribly wrong. But you cannot be out there for more than 7 days, 8 max.” The two soldiers nodded their heads in understanding. “Additionally, there is a recording unit set up in both sets of armor that will let you log your travels.”

“Excellent work, Proctor Ingram,” Maxson praised; he stood at parade rest on the other side of Parker, opposite of Danse. The Elder turned to face the two soldiers, addressing them both. “Paladin, Knight. Take the rest of the evening off to relax. You’ll report to the observation deck tomorrow morning to receive a briefing at 0600 and prepare to depart for the Glowing Sea by 0630.”

Danse and Ingram saluted the Elder, who did the same back—but Parker did no such thing. Instead, she turned and walked away without even so much as making a snarky comment, which she always got away with doing. It made him unhappy because it was just so _disrespectful;_ and if Danse was known for anything, it was decorum.

But if the Elder didn’t reprimand her for it, then neither could he.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

By the time Arthur had finished working, the sky had grown dark, the sun setting hours before, and it was already a bit past curfew. He’d spoken with the Proctors about some of the upcoming projects here and there and had even spoken to Paladin Danse regarding his and Nora’s journey into the Glowing Sea tomorrow, but once everything had settled down and he was granted a moment of peace, he took the opportunity to retreat to his room for the night. Sleep was necessary and he was exhausted from the events of the day.

Upon entering his quarters, however, something felt off—his room was not the same way he’d left it. 

After he and Nora had fucked earlier in the day, he’d done a quick cleanup of the mess that was left all over the floor when he’d shoved everything off the table, ensuring things were neat and tidy and that nothing was out of place before returning to work. But now there was a cobalt blue vault suit and faded undergarments left hanging over one of the chairs at the table—specifically the chair Nora had claimed as her usual spot. 

A quick glance around had his gaze soon landing on the naked body that was sleeping in his bed, tucked beneath the covers.

Apparently, she’d snuck her way into his room, likely with the intention of requisitioning his quarters as her own for the night rather than sleeping out in her own bunk or even crashing in Danse’s room. It didn’t necessarily bother him as he’d slept with her through the night most of the times that they’d had sex, but that was mostly because they’d fucked and fell asleep—this time, she’d come back on her own volition, specifically to sleep.

It was… problematic for the young Elder. Not only because he was simply unable to take his subs as anything more than just that, but also because there was no relationship to be had with him—it was only sex. Nora needed an emotional connection with whoever cared for her, but that was just something he couldn’t provide; hell, he’d tried to explain that to her at one point and thought he’d succeeded, but it seemed that was not the case.

He couldn’t give her anything more than sex; he was unable to offer her any sort of emotional support.

And she knew that. Or, at least he thought she did.

But as Arthur found himself quietly stripping his clothes off before climbing into bed with this prewar woman, only to curl his body around her back and hold her tightly to his chest, he knew he’d fucked up somewhere along the way.

She’d become emotionally dependent on him in one form or another. He’d provided her emotional refuge.


	16. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a mistake. He should have kicked her out last night and told her not to come back when he’d discovered she was in his bedroom. He should have told her that she was his _subordinate_ and he her _Elder,_ and that what they were doing was fucking inappropriate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN JUNE 2, 2020

Her eyes fluttered open, greeted by the wall in front of her—not that she was able to see it, anyway, considering the room was engulfed in complete darkness. She wasn’t sure of the time but if the large, warm body pressed against her back was any indicator, it was before dawn and before she had to wake to get ready to leave for the Glowing Sea with Paladin Danse.

Two strong arms were wrapped around her in a familiar embrace—one beneath her neck that crossed over her chest, the other draped over her stomach—as Arthur’s entire form was curved against her, his chest to her back, groin to her ass, and thighs to her hamstrings while their feet were tangled beneath the covers. She was a perfect fit against him, like a puzzle piece, and the mere thought had her sighing with satisfaction and nestling back into his hold, allowing her to relish in the moment with the feel of their bodies pressed tightly together, his steady exhales tickling down the nape of her neck.

But with his groin to her ass came the familiar feeling of an erection pressing against her, and she had to hold back a moan when she noticed. Her body was still sore from their escapades yesterday afternoon, but she’d never let something like that stop her before.

Nora pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and shifted her hips, pushing herself against him so he slid between her legs, his length along her folds. Arthur made a soft noise in his sleep—she froze at the sound—but when he only stirred and didn’t wake, she sighed with relief and continued doing it again. The vaultie spread her thighs a bit to shift him more against her before she closed them again, then rocked her hips back and forth, drawing his length up and down the outside of her cunt. It wouldn’t get her off, but it was certainly enough to make her shiver as she was getting wet from the act.

“Are you having fun?”

The question was sudden and asked close to her ear, Arthur’s voice quiet and groggy as she’d apparently woken him up from her movements. Nora gasped and froze, a flush running up her cheeks, but she was glad he couldn’t see it.

“Mm. Don’t stop on my account,” he whispered while familiar lips pressed against the side of her neck, the soft touches accompanying the tickling drag of coarse facial hair.

She tipped her head to the side, offering more of herself to him, but when she didn’t start moving her hips again, Arthur took the liberty of moving his own, dragging his hard cock against her folds just as she had been doing before.

“If this is how you choose to wake me, then I might have to let you requisition my quarters more often,” he growled against her.

“You’re the one who was pressing your boner against my ass,” she whispered.

“And you’re the one who was taking advantage of me while I was sleeping,” he retorted.

Nora’s face flushed again, and she turned her head away, hiding herself in the pillow as if he wouldn’t be able to see her, but the Elder just laughed into her neck before placing a soft bite in the same spot.

“I don’t mind, pet,” he murmured.

“Can I turn around?” she asked, and when his arms released, she carefully rolled over to face him.

His arms wrapped around her again just before he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. The vaultie’s knees shifted to either side of his body as she straddled his hips, though their torsos remained pressed together while one of his hands slid to the back of her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. It was gentle and sleepy, and she guessed he wasn’t about to be very rough or do much commanding since he was still waking up. 

At least not yet.

And maybe that was why she took the risk of lacing her fingers with his in such an intimate gesture, knowing he wouldn’t react the same way he would if he was wide awake.

Still, Arthur seemed to hesitate, not returning the action at first, but when she gently squeezed his hands, she felt his fingers curl against the backs of her own, granting her the intimate gesture she craved.

The kiss broke after a few moments, leaving them both panting. She tried to look at him to see his face but considering how dark it was, the only thing she was even able to see was the outline of his body and head. Nora sat up and leaned over to the nightstand, grabbing her pipboy and flipping the light on so a white glow illuminated the room; and when she put it back on the nightstand and returned her eyes to him as he was still beneath her, she took note he was studying her face with furrowed eyebrows.

It was… concerning.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, gently lacing their fingers again. She could see the hesitation on his face like he was second guessing himself. Was he unsure if he wanted her? Had she done something wrong? Perhaps she should have kept the light off.

But Maxson shook his head and freed his hands from her hold, both palms placing on her hips and callused fingers gently sliding up her sides and to her breasts, cupping them.

“Nothing,” he answered as he gently tugged one of her nipples.

The reassurance allowed a wave of relief to wash over her, though she was still able to see the hesitation in his movements and face. Regardless, Nora shifted herself above him to let his cock fall against his belly rather than remain pressed up against her ass, then lowered herself so his length was pushed between her folds as she slid along it, coating the underside of his cock in her slick. 

Arthur quietly groaned and replaced his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her down into yet another kiss. It was a bit rougher than the last—more passion in it—which told her he was waking up.

With how she was sliding along his length, her clit ended up brushing against the ridged head of his cock, coaxing a moan from her throat. Maxson’s free hand shifted around the back of her thigh, moving between her legs, and one finger stroked along her entrance before dipping in to the second knuckle; she exhaled through her nose, the sigh combined with a moan, and it was noisy against his face since their lips were still locked.

The Elder bent his knees a bit and dug his heels into the bed, bucking her forward just enough to make it easier for him to reach around her, then dipped a second finger in. But she’d stopped grinding against him as soon as the first was pushed in, though her clit was still firmly pressed against the underside of his cock.

“Rub yourself on me,” he lightly ordered against her lips in a soft but commanding tone.

Of course, she obeyed, sliding herself back and forth so her clit rubbed against the velvety skin of his cock while he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her. It wasn’t long before her legs were trembling on either side of his body, her rocking growing a bit unsteady; and even though his fingers weren’t touching her sweet spot since he was fingering her from a weird angle, it still helped her tip over the edge, especially when she ground herself against him particularly hard. Another moan was muffled into the kiss as she came and he devoured the sound, helping her ride through her climax.

His fingers slowly slipped out once she came down from that post-orgasm high, their lips pulling apart as his hand was raised to her face. Nora dragged the flat of her tongue against his fingers before taking them into her mouth, sucking them clean, keeping her eyes locked with his as he silently watched while his other hand slid up from her hip to her side until it ended up in her hair, fingers threading into the strawberry-blonde locks.

But he suddenly grabbed a fistful of her hair, making her whine, though he didn’t seem bothered by the noise. The vaultie roughly grabbed his wrist, squeezing, trying to get him to let go—but with two fingers in her mouth, she was unable to verbally tell him. Her other hand grabbed onto the wrist that had fingers in her mouth, tugging it away.

“Arthur,” she whined, pushing her head back against his hand to relieve some of the pain he was causing. “I don’t want you to be rough right now. Just let me do it at my own pace. Please.”

The Elder immediately released her hair without pulling his hand away, just keeping his fingers in it, while some internal conflict washed over his face as he stared up at her with furrowed brows again. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself, maybe. Should she have just let him pull her hair? She was hoping he didn’t kick her out all because she wanted to be gentler this time despite that clearly not being his style.

Without a word, though, he coaxed her to lean down again, their lips meeting in another kiss.

Okay, so things were fine.

Nora took that opportunity to reach between their bodies and grab ahold of his cock, stroking him a couple times and garnering a low grunt from him, then guiding him into her. She went slow, easing him in by sinking down and raising up to prevent the burning stretch from being too much, but she didn’t need to take it _too_ slow considering they’d fucked just yesterday. After a few times of raising and lowering her hips, they were soon locked together with his cock hilted inside her, and the small amount of burn she felt was minimal but pleasant.

Arthur’s hands found her body again, palms rubbing up and down her thighs, hips, and sides as he devoured the feeling of her skin. Her own went to his chest, fingers threading into the dark expanse of hair on his front, and her nails just gently dug into his skin to coax a soft moan from him. He still stared up at her with that internal conflict she desperately wanted to hear about written on his face, but when she stared rocking her hips back and forth, grinding herself on him and rubbing her clit against his groin, that look disappeared and was taken over by a wave of pleasure as he closed his eyes.

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” he quietly growled.

His husky voice was a bit deeper than usual since they’d just woken up, but she’d be a liar if she said he didn’t sound so fucking good.

Nora stopped rocking and started bouncing on him, sliding his cock in and out with the result of quiet slaps of skin and wet sounds from her own release moments ago. She watched his eyes open before he looked down between them, seeming to watch as his cock disappeared and reappeared with each movement she made, but after a second, a hand on her hip kept her from moving, ensuring she held herself up a bit higher as he reached between their bodies. Despite glancing down, she wasn’t able to see what he was doing nor did she feel his hand touch her between her legs, but as soon as he brought it back out, his thumb was extended in front of her mouth.

She’d said she wanted to go at her own pace, and he was obliging by not rushing or being rough, but she also knew Arthur needed some amount of control in the situation and she wouldn’t deny him that. Besides, she _enjoyed_ giving him control; she just didn’t want to be rough like they usually were.

Immediately, her mouth opened, and he slid his thumb between her lips, pressing the pad down onto the flat of her tongue and leaving it there. _Fuck,_ she could taste her own cum.

“Close your mouth,” he quietly ordered.

Like usual, she obeyed, and closed her lips around his thumb so it disappeared between them to the first knuckle while she sucked. 

“Keep going.”

Nora resumed bouncing on him, coaxing a groan from his chest, and his free hand slid between her legs, fingers rubbing against her clit in fast circles, pushing her closer to the edge. The vaultie moaned against his thumb, sucking a bit harder so her cheeks caved. Trembling legs gave away that she was close to coming, and he pushed his thumb the rest of the way into her mouth.

“Cum for me, pet,” he growled.

Admittedly, the dirty talk always helped push her over the edge, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her as she came, flattening their hips together while grinding against him to ride it out.

Maxson sat up then, his lips wrapping around a pebbled nipple and sucking it between his teeth so he could gently bite at it. His thumb slid from her mouth at the same time and both hands found her ass, grabbing. “Mm, _fuck,”_ he groaned after releasing her nipple with a loud _pop._ “Do what makes you feel good. I want you to keep coming on my cock. Do you understand?” 

_“Fuck,_ Arthur. Yes, sir,” she answered while tipping her head back, her hips rolling once again so her clit was rubbing against his groin.

He trailed kisses up to her neck, his beard scratching against sensitive skin and tickling it while soft kisses were placed to the column of her throat. “Can I mark you?”

It was strange to hear him ask for permission but enlightening to know he respected her wishes about letting her take it at her own pace. And it was also sexy as hell to hear him asking for her consent.

“Not by biting,” she whispered, letting one of her hands slid up into his hair, fingers threading into it.

The Elder dragged his tongue up the column of her throat again before taking some of the skin into his mouth, sucking hard enough to bruise her flesh but not too hard that it was painful—and the mark would be high up enough for everyone to see.

Knowing Arthur, it was likely on purpose. He’d probably seen Danse eyeing the bruise on her neck yesterday, so this one would give the Paladin something new to eye.

That mere thought of his possessiveness brought her close again, her hips grinding harder and less fluidly against him, drawing out moans from herself. He returned to rubbing circles on her clit, helping her reach the tipping point again, a loud moan escaping her throat—his name included in it.

“Mm. I’m close, pet,” he growled against her throat, having sucked a third spot between his lips and left a bruise.

Nora shivered at his words and started bouncing on him again, trying to draw out his orgasm. She wanted— _needed_ —him to cum; it didn’t even matter _where_ he came, just so long as he reached that peak and toppled over it.

And, fuck, she was already nearing another orgasm after her hips shifted, his cock brushing against her sweet spot harder than before while his fingers kept rubbing her clit. Her legs hadn’t even stopped trembling from the last orgasm.

“Oh, god, I’m gonna cum again,” she whispered, her free hand moving to his shoulder, nails digging into him.

A glance down at him told her he had his chin tipped down with his eyes tightly closed as if he was focusing on something. But she didn’t— _couldn’t_ —think on it for long before she was sent over that edge again, her hips crashing down against the base of his cock, locking their bodies together while her moan echoed off the metal walls of the room.

The second after she bottomed out was when she felt it—he came. Inside her. 

Kind of.

Arthur pulled her up just when she felt him starting to fill her, the rest of his cum either landing on the outside of her pussy or oozing down his shaft. Did he even get any pleasure from it, or was it ruined?

_”Fuck,”_ he growled, his body shifting from beneath her as he moved her to his side and onto her back. He was quick to get off the bed, and Nora remained silent as she watched him with wide eyes. Had he been… holding it in?

He grabbed a cloth from the same drawer as usual and came back to her before cleaning her like he always did. His touches were still gentle, but there was clear panic in his breath and on his face as he wiped his cum off her, then took the rag to himself, which was where most of it seemed to have gone. The rag was then tossed onto the floor as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

This was a mistake. He should have kicked her out last night and told her not to come back when he’d discovered she was in his bedroom. He should have told her that she was his _subordinate_ and he her _Elder,_ and that what they were doing was fucking inappropriate.

But that would be punishing her for something that was equally his fault, if not more so. She may have said the first inappropriate comments, but he was the one who’d approached her, offering her an arrangement that now seemed to have gone too far.

It wasn’t really even about the fact he’d accidentally cum inside her—sort of? Barely. It was probably nothing even though he’d panicked—but was mostly about how he knew where this was going and what she’d end up wanting.

No, not wanting. _Needing._

Nora needed someone to love her and help her through the difficult struggles in her new life. Someone to help her cope with the death of her husband and the loss of her son; someone to teach her about the Commonwealth and how to survive.

She needed someone who wasn’t Arthur Maxson.

He couldn’t give her any of the things she wanted or needed. Hell, he didn’t _want_ to give her any of them. To Arthur, what they had was only about sex, so any adoration or infatuation he might have held for her was solely based on her abilities as a soldier and as the General of the Minutemen. Sure, she was able to get more from him than any of his previous subs, but he’d still chalked that up to her abilities.

They sat in silence for a long moment, calming their breathing. But when he spoke, his voice was strained and cautious while he tried to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Nora.”

He had to stop this or at least had to draw the line… somewhere. But that line had to be clear and concise on the walls and floors, detailing everything they could and couldn’t do. It had to be a line that _neither_ of them could cross.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore,” he finally said. 

She didn’t move, which he knew even though his back was to her; the bed was unwavering, and he continued to stare down at the dimly-lit metal floor. And when she didn’t even bother replying at all, his jaw clenched.

“I told you before that I can’t give you anything more than sex and I think you might be starting to seek more than that, whether you realize it or not.”

She still didn’t speak.

Arthur sighed, one hand running down his face. “I’m fine with sex, but that’s all it can be,” he continued. “I cannot give you anything more, and I need you to understand that before we decide where to go from here.”

It felt like he’d waited for hours for her to react, and he had to resist the urge to turn around and shake her into saying something— _anything._ But when soft, prewar hands slid onto his shoulders, the Elder closed his eyes and relished in the touch.

Damn her.

“Arthur,” she whispered in his ear; he could feel her breath slipping into the shell of it and it was like a firecracker going off between his legs.

She had to stop. He couldn’t do this. It was too intimate; too much.

“Nora, please,” he rasped.

Fuck, he was almost _begging_ her to stop. Arthur Maxson, the last of the Maxson line, Elder of the east coast chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, a man whose very soul was forged from eternal steel, was essentially begging a prewar vault dweller to stop… what, exactly? Stop making him want to let her in? Stop making him feel things he didn’t fully understand? Stop touching him so intimately that he was forced to crave her when she left?

“It’s okay,” she whispered again. “You can’t scare me off.”

She was right: he couldn’t scare her off, at least not like he could with most people, especially women.

Arthur could use his position as Elder as a way to deter some—

_You’d have to give up your life as a soldier to be the wife of a Maxson, meaning you couldn’t go on missions, you’d have to birth my children, and I would be away often._

—his lack of emotional availability and even capability to deter others—

_I cannot feel for you the way you want. I do not have that capability and you should not expect me to._

—and had even used his sexual kinks as a way to deter the rest—

_I will not be gentle. There is no making love with me. Do you understand? Tell me you understand._

But Nora Parker wasn’t like the others in those aspects. None of those things pushed her away, but he might have even argued they _drew her in_ to some extent. She was broken to the point others in the Commonwealth weren’t; she’d lost her entire life and everything she knew and was forced to start fresh, completely over from scratch. And while her scars of losing loved ones were similar to everyone else’s, her battle was anything but.

“I can’t do this with you,” he whispered.

“Do what?”

“This—this intimacy. I can’t give you what you want, Nora.”

“What is you think I want?”

Arthur hesitated at the question, trying to decide how to frame the words. He was never one to pull punches or consider another person’s feelings when telling them something, but goddamn if she didn’t make him want to try.

“Emotional support. Reciprocated feelings. A relationship. _Love._ I can’t give you any of that.” And even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t know how.

Nora rubbed at his shoulders, small fingers pressing into tightly knotted muscles he’d accumulated over time. She didn’t pause or stop even though he knew he’d struck a sore spot by the way her hand shifted against him, but it was brief, and she immediately returned to what she was doing.

“Okay.”

He waited for more—waited for the anger to follow or for some other reaction—but nothing came. Instead, she’d replied with a single word and kept touching him, pushing into a particularly tender spot with her thumb that made him hiss.

“I don’t understand,” he said after a moment. “Just… okay?”

“Yeah. Just okay,” she echoed.

“Elaborate.”

Her hands slid closer to the sides of his neck, delicate fingers pushing into the untouched muscles. How long had it been since he’d had a massage? Since he’d let someone touch him like this?

“I don’t know how to explain it, Arthur. If you can’t give me those things, then okay. The sex is great and I’m fine with us just doing that. And if one day you _can_ give me those things, then I’ll take it. But I won’t expect it or wait around.”

This… hadn’t gone how he thought it would. The Elder expected her to scream and yell like she had at Teagan, or to make snarky comments and jokes like she did to Danse all the time. But instead, she just accepted what he had to offer, unlike when he’d said it the first time around.

It was… confusing.

He’d mapped out all the possibilities of reactions she could have went with—anger, shutting down, resentment, regret—but not once had he actually considered acceptance.

Arthur was used to having control over every single aspect of his life; he was trained to become a brilliant tactician and to always remain ten steps ahead of everyone. But somehow, he’d lost that ability in this moment and could no longer claim he had control when it came to Nora. 

And that was fucking terrifying.


	17. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”Do you even feel anything anymore? Do you even have emotions like a normal goddamn human being? Do you even remember what it feels like to be fucking happy, Arthur?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN JUNE 4, 2020

If there was one constant in the universe, it was how the sun always rose in the east and set in the west—and that, alone, gave Arthur some peace of mind accompanied by a small amount of hope that he could regain control over his life.

Because, fuck, was it slipping.

Since he was a young boy, he was expected to behave like a soldier; he’d never had the luxury of being just a child as that was not his destiny.

_”You’re just a kid, Arthur! You should be out playing with other children, not in here writing up battle plans!”_

As a Squire, he did drills with the Initiates, went on scouting missions with the Scribes, and performed small cleanups with the Knights; he’d even sat in on meetings with the Elder Council to help hone his tactical skills for his inevitable rise into that very rank.

_”There is no room for children in the wasteland. Either you grow the fuck up or you die like your parents.”_

But even though he was never allowed to be a child, he was also never allowed to be anyone’s equal, either. From birth, Arthur was told how special he was, that he would grow up to do great things with his life and that nothing could stop him, especially when he had an entire army under his command—but also how his name and genetics were what made him the person he was then and now.

_”Everything you do will be judged, but your brothers and sisters would die for you in a heartbeat if they had to.”_

He was a Maxson—the _last_ Maxson—which meant he had a duty to the Brotherhood of Steel: lead his brothers and sisters into battle, create strong offspring with superior genetics that would one day take his place to continue the Maxson Dynasty, and preserve and keep technology out of the hands of people who would use it to harm others.

_”You’re expected to do great things, Squire Maxson. Do not disappoint the Brotherhood.”_

His responsibilities always outweighed any desire to have a normal life; he never had time for friends, birthdays, holidays, crushes, heartbreak, _love._ He didn’t have the opportunity to grow attached to people or objects—

_”Why are you crying? Stop fucking crying! You’re not a goddamn child anymore!”_

—which was why his quarters remained bare with only the basic necessities any commanding officer needed, plus a well-stocked supply of liquor.

_”Are you drunk again, Arthur? How can you expect to lead people if you don’t stop drinking?”_

And maybe he was fine knowing he was never his own person but instead an extension of an enormous military organization. He knew the way he’d turned out was different from other people; he knew he lacked something vital that most people possessed—something that made them easy to connect with and _human._ Perhaps it made him a stronger person and an even stronger leader to not be weighed down or held back by simple and burdensome things like emotions; it certainly allowed him to keep better control of himself, whether that came to how he acted or what his body wanted.

But he hadn’t always been like this.

_”You should be glad she isn’t around to see how you turned out. She’d be disappointed.”_

He remembered feeling things when he was younger—brief flashes of emotions that were mere glimpses behind his eyelids during his short life. When his mother died, he’d bawled in Sarah Lyons’ arms from sadness and grief, and only once he was too exhausted to cry anymore did he finally sleep. When Sarah snuck him outside the Citadel walls to hunt some mirelurks, even though he wasn’t supposed to leave without an entire escort of power armored soldiers, he’d felt happy and excited and nervous all at the same time. And when Sarah died, he’d felt true sorrow and cried in the arms of Amelia, the Lone Wanderer.

There weren’t many other moments, though.

_”You’re broken, Arthur. The Brotherhood took an innocent little boy and made him into a heartless fucking monster.”_

Maybe Amelia was right—maybe he was broken. Maybe he had been a normal little boy who was crushed into a tiny ball, only to be shoved into a pit of fire and molded into a man with a soul of steel. Maybe the Brotherhood had made him into who he was in order to match their vision of the perfect Maxson heir—and maybe that vision included him being a monster.

_”Do you even feel anything anymore? Do you even have emotions like a normal goddamn human being? Do you even remember what it feels like to be fucking happy, Arthur?”_

But it didn’t matter anymore; that was years ago and now Arthur was twenty, the Elder of the east coast chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, and he was… _craving._

The arrival of this prewar vault dweller had shrouded him in a cloud of doubt, and she was making him lose the strong grip of control he’d held over every aspect of his life for the past five years. But it was much deeper than that—it was deep enough to reach the bottom of the Kola Borehole, and it was something Arthur just didn’t understand.

_”You’re a fucking monster, Arthur Maxson. How could you just let all those people die!?”_

This woman was doing something to him he couldn’t fully comprehend. She was getting beneath his skin, prodding at the hidden wounds he’d licked clean and covered in layers upon layers of bandages over the years without allowing them to properly heal, only to rip the dressing off piece by piece. 

_”You don’t like to get your hands dirty, do you? You prefer to let others do the work for you. You’re just a coward; a boy playing king.”_

And just when he thought he’d never experience any sort of real emotion again—be it happiness, sadness, worry, regret, whatever—Nora started clearing away the rust and bringing out the shine, ignoring how he’d used the reddish-brown substance as a cover to hide whatever he wanted beneath it so he didn’t ever have to think about those things again.

But she didn’t care. Instead, she made him _crave._

He craved _her._

And it made no fucking sense.

_”You can’t be like everyone else, Arthur. You’re special. You have an important place in this world’s past, present, and future, and the only way you can ensure it remains is if you prove your soul was truly forged from eternal steel.”_

He wasn’t supposed to feel emotions, anyway; he wasn’t supposed to be like everyone else. He was a _Maxson,_ the last of his line, and he had to continue the dynasty without the desire of love or want but with the necessity to fulfill his duty—nothing more.

_”If you want to excel at leading, Squire Maxson, then you must learn to use self-control at all times.”_

But just as Amelia had been disappointed in him, so would be Sarah. And as heartless as everyone thought him to be, he’d never wanted to disappoint either of them.

_”Good luck being an Elder, Arthur. You’ll be a perfect fit in this fucked-up fascist organization now that Sarah’s dea—“_

Familiar arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him from his thoughts as he stared out the large window of the observation deck, and a face pressed against his upper back through the thick brown coat that hung on his shoulders. It was such an intimate action and one he knew needed to stop happening, but he couldn’t convince himself to push her away. Instead, he remained still, keeping his eyes forward to gaze out at the Commonwealth as the sun was rising in the sky.

She was the first one there, otherwise she wouldn’t have risked getting so close—they both had appearances to uphold, after all. He felt her body slide around him, her arms only removing themselves from his midsection once she was in front of him so she could slip them beneath his coat and around his back, out of view. If someone were to walk in, his much larger frame would easily hide hers, but she wouldn’t be able to hide forever.

Nora stared up at him with blue eyes that were a few shades darker than his own, and he could see the remnants of a prewar Boston in her irises. He wanted to find it; wanted to see it. But she was so close—too close for comfort—and he could only clench his jaw to try to convince himself to push her away, or at least tell her to stop.

But he did no such thing.

Despite the objections in the back of his mind, Arthur brought one hand up to gently cup her jaw while his gaze flicked back and forth between her eyes, searching for answers to questions he didn’t even know how to ask. She returned the gesture, her own hand moving to cup his jaw, fingers threading into his beard and coaxing a purr from deep in his chest. The Elder turned his face into her hand, eyes slipping closed for just a second.

Fuck.

It had to stop.

Maxson’s eyes snapped open to look down at her again, brows furrowed while an internal conflict was written all over his face. Why was she doing this to him? Why was he _letting_ her do this to him? All he had to do was tell her to stop and she’d back away, but he just… couldn’t find the words.

Did he even _want_ to find them?

“Nora,” he whispered, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone.

“Arthur,” she replied, her voice just as quiet while a small smile set her lips. Her free hand raised to his wrist, delicate fingers wrapping around it as she turned her head and kissed his gloved palm. “Will you miss me?”

Would he miss her? He _craved_ her, but was that the same thing? Was there a difference at all?

Since the moment she’d walked aboard his ship, she’d started pushing a knife into his sternum, little by little—and now, she was demanding he beg her to stop. But he just… couldn’t.

Arthur’s lips parted to speak but Nora denied him the right to do so and instead stood on her tiptoes, gently pressing their lips together. The young Elder’s mind had no time to react before his body did it for him, his eyes closing as he pressed into her, his other hand moving to rest on her hip.

But the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him drew their attentions and they quickly pulled away from one another, turning around to see three pairs of eyebrows raised. Paladin Danse stood in his power armor, his face tato red and contrasting with the silver encasing—he had enough blood in his cheeks for every soldier on the Prydwen, undoubtedly. To Danse’s left stood Lancer-Captain Kells, whose hands were clasped behind his back while he stared out the large window overlooking the Commonwealth. And then finally Proctor Ingram, who just had a giant grin on her face.

That was the worst reaction, perhaps. Anger, embarrassment, and refusal to even acknowledge what was happening were fine—but _excitement?_

Nora’s face was nearly as red as Danse’s and there was even a slight flush just barely riding up beneath Arthur’s beard, but he just cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back in parade rest. “I presume it is 0600, so let us begin.”

The vault dweller didn’t move away from him, instead remaining where she was at his side—it wasn’t the greatest look in front of three higher-ranking officers, but then again, everyone in the room already heard and saw them. Besides, Nora never played by Brotherhood rules, and she likely never would.

“Knight Parker, Paladin Danse, your orders are clear: search the Glowing Sea for the escaped Institute scientist and retrieve whatever information you can from him about the Institute and their plans. You have exactly one week to get in and out before you run out of supplies. I cannot risk sending a vertibird after you if you fail, so I’m counting on you both to return to us safely.”

Danse’s eyes flicked to Nora, and although Arthur had yet to look at her, he knew her head hadn’t raised by the way the Paladin furrowed his eyebrows.

Was she ashamed?

“Proctor Ingram,” Maxson continued, “Is there any additional information regarding the modifications for their power armor?”

Ingram shook her head. “Just remember that if you take too much damage out there, the modifications and armor become useless. You need to avoid direct hits as much as possible. I upgraded the armor itself as best I could to increase its health and to make it last longer, but still, there are dangerous creatures out there that can tear everything open.”

“Thank you. Lancer-Captain Kells?”

His second-in-command stepped forward. “We will need to land the vertibird about half a mile out from where the radiation starts ticking on the Geiger counter. I’ve set up a map marker in the vertibird and I’ve also downloaded the marker into Knight Parker’s pip-boy.” Kells’ eyes turned to Danse. “Try to meet us as close to the marker as you can when you’re finished; we’ll have someone there waiting.”

“Excellent. Thank you both. You are dismissed,” the Elder said.

Sky blue eyes turned over to Nora, seeing her fiddling with her pip-boy. She pulled up the map, so he assumed she was looking for the marker, but then she went to the radio, then back to the map, the radio, the map… she was pretending to be busy. While standing right next to him. When he could very clearly see her pip-boy. And while Danse was staring at her.

That was… certainly something.

Once Ingram and Kells left the observation deck, Maxson remained quiet and just watched Nora flip between screens a couple more times as if he would believe she was too busy to talk. But he soon reached a hand over, gently placing it atop her pip-boy and pushing her arm down so she’d lower it. The vault dweller pursed her lips but gave up and dropped her arm, instead opting to stare at the floor.

Danse was still staring at her.

“Knight. Paladin,” Arthur began. “If there’s something that needs to be addressed, then I suggest you do so within the next fifteen minutes, because once you’re on that vertibird, you should only be feeling a sense of camaraderie and the drive to succeed.”

Parker shook her head much too quickly to even consider the answer.

“Ah… thank you, Elder, but everything is fine,” Danse murmured after clearing his throat.

A look to the Paladin was made before Arthur returned his eyes to Nora, nodding his head. “Very well. You are both dismissed.” But when her eyes raised to him, meeting his own, he spoke again—this time to her directly, though his words were framed to them both. “Please ensure you come back to us safely. Ad Victoriam.”


	18. Logging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think something’s coming.”
> 
> “How do you know that?”
> 
> “The ground is shaking??”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER REWRITTEN JUNE 4, 2020

**Day 1, 0800**

“It’s day one and the time is… uh, 8am.”

“Oh-eight-hundred.”

“Ugh. 0800. Anyways—”

“You need to start the log with your name.”

“Jesus fuck, Danse. Fine. This is Knight Nora Parker logging for day one. The time is 0800. Paladin Pants and I—”

“Did you really just call me ‘Paladin Pants’?”

“What? No, I said ‘Paladin Danse.’ Anyway, Paladin Pants and I are supposed to be logging our mission three times per day. I think that’s stupid, but he says it’s protocol—”

“Knight.”

“—and won’t quit pestering me about it, so here I am making a dumb log. We just got dropped off via vertibird half a mile outside the Glowing Sea, directly at the checkpoint made by Lancer-Captain Kells and are now on our way into the great green glob of ground zero. So far, we haven’t seen anything that wants to eat us, but rest assured, when we do, I will sacrifice the Paladin.”

_”Knight Parker.”_

“Just know that if he dies, he went out fighting for the Motherhood.”

“’Motherhood’!?”

“What? You might want to speak to Knight-Captain Cade about getting your hearing checked, old man. And stop interrupting me. I’m doing super important logging. _Anyway…_ yeah, I think that’s it for this one.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 1, 1400**

“This is Paladin Danse, logging for Recon Squad Fox—”

“We have a squad name!?”

“Yes, we have a squad name.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me we had a squad name!?”

“Knight Parker…”

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“Ahem. This is Paladin Danse, logging for Recon Squad Fox on day one. The time is—”

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“Oh, no.”

“What, Knight?”

“That’s not good.”

“Damnit, Parker, what is it!?”

“A sad excuse for a dinosaur.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 1, 1430**

“This is Paladin Danse, logging fight activity on day one. The time is 1430. We ran across a young male deathclaw outside a cave that it appears to have made its temporary home. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of a nest, so it’s unlikely it had a mate or that a female lived here that it was stalking. Knight Parker and I sustained minimal damage to our armor—”

“I think I broke my toe.”

“You did not break your toe.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because the armor around it is fine.”

“Oh… okay, fair point.”

“Anyway. There are only scuff marks on my armor while Knight Parker’s has a dent on her left shin. Other than that, we remain unscathed. We will rest in the cave before moving on.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 1, 2000**

“This is Knight Nora Parker, logging for bedtime. We—”

“Parker, you still have to say the day and time.”

“Can you just let me do my own logs?”

“If you did them correctly, I would.”

“Ugh. This is Knight Nora Parker logging for Recon Squad Foxy on—”

“Parker…”

“Just let me have this one thing, Danse!”

“… Fine.”

_”Yes!_ This is Knight Nora Parker logging for Recon Squad Foxy on day one. The time is 2000. We discovered some half-buried offices that we ended up clearing out and taking shelter in for the night. There were a lot of feral ghouls in here, but they’re all dead now, thanks to me.”

“Ugh.”

“Anyway, going to bed. Hugs and kisses and all that.”

“Kni—”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 2, 1400**

“This is Paladin Danse, logging for Recon Squad Fox on day two. The time is 1400. I was assured by Knight Parker that she logged our morning activity, but she seems to have lied about doing that, so this is our first log of the day.”

“Whoops.”

“We got turned around somewhere and found our way back to the cave again, and now we’re by an old church. We’ll had ba—”

“Oh, no.”

“Knight Parker, if you—”

“I think something’s coming.”

“How do you know that?”

“The ground is shaking??”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 2, 2000**

“This is Knight Nora Parker, logging for Recon Squad Fox on day two. The time is 2000. We found another cave, similar to the last one, but not in the same area. There was another male deathclaw nearby, slightly older than the first, but still no signs of a female. We’re going to sleep here for the night before continuing further into the Glowing Sea… is that it?”

“Affirmative.”

_kkkkzzzztttttpppp_

“… Parker? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Clearly something is wrong.”

“You don’t want to hear about it.”

“I may be your sponsor, but I am also your friend. You can confide in me.”

“I… don’t think he cares about me, Danse.”

“… Who?”

“Arthur.”

“… Ah.”

“See, I told you that you didn’t want to hear about it.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t care?”

“Because he keeps pushing me away.”

“I see.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Parker. Maxson is… a complex man and being with him is an even more complex situation. He has been like this since I’ve known him, and I think that’s because people have treated him a very specific way his entire life, so he built himself around that. I don’t know if he can return your feelings. I’m unsure if he’s capable.”

“Oh…”

“But what I do know is you are a beautiful woman who could have any man in the world on their knees in a heartbeat. Just because Maxson can’t feel the way you want him to feel doesn’t mean there aren’t others who can.”

“Are you saying you’d get on your knees for me, Paladin?”

“I… uh… um…”

“That was a joke, Danse. Relax.”

“Ah.”

“Thanks, Danse. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Parker.”

_kkkkzzzzttttppp_

“… Shit.”

“Hm?”

“Oh, uh, nothi—”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 4, 1200**

“This is Paladin Danse, logging for Recon Squad Fox on day four. The time is 1200. We have reached the cave where the Institute scientist known as Virgil has been hiding. As it turns out, Virgil is a… well, a super mutant. He used the FEV virus the Institute had to turn himself into one so he could hide in the Glowing Sea, where he knew no one would dare look for him. It was an extremely intelligent move, I must admit. Knight Parker spoke to him about getting into the Institute and he drew up some plans for us to build a device. He explained how synths use a teleporter to get in and out of the facility and that we’ll have to build something similar ourselves. Knight Parker and I will be leaving shortly to head back to the checkpoint.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 5, 2100**

“The Paladin stalks through the sands of the Glowing Sea, his power armor whirring with each step. One foot at a time, he can feel his movements weakening as he sinks lower and lower into the sand beneath him. It begins sucking him under, slowly devouring him inch by inch, ready to eat him whole. But he garners enough strength to shoot a glare behind him, eyes narrowed beneath the helmet of his ar—”

_”Parker.”_

“Oh, come on! It was funny!”

“I do not appreciate you narrating everything I do.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

**Day 6, 1800**

“I’m not gonna make it, Danse.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I’m—I’m a g-goner. I can… see the light.”

“Knight Parker.”

“I… just—just go on without me. Please. Tell the Brotherhood… tell them I said… ad… victoria…”

“Damnit, Parker, will you just get in the vertibird already?”


	19. Refillable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon entrance, Nora seemed unable to control herself, but why he ever expected her to anymore was beyond him.
> 
> ”What’s up, comrades?” she blurted out. “Did everyone miss me?”

Danse was thoroughly drained by the time he and Nora boarded the vertibird; he was ready for a long, hot shower and could probably sleep for three days straight. The Glowing Sea hadn’t been easy and despite his body being encased in steel, he ached and, for once, felt like he needed to get out of his power armor for a while.

For the entire flight home, he was silent, though tried to keep himself awake despite the unending zaps inside his brain that were begging him for a little shuteye. Nora remained quiet, as well, with her back leaned against his arm for support while they sat on the floor of the ‘bird. They’d both removed their helmets upon entering their ride, gulping in the fresh air and allowing the cool breeze to hit their faces as they ascended into the sky.

But her silence was unusual – perhaps she’d fallen asleep. It seemed likely since her head was tipped down close to her chest, though he was unable to see if her eyes were actually closed. That was fine with him, though, because she needed the rest. He’d be here to protect her and warn her of any dangers, just as he had been for the past week and just as he would be for as long as she’d keep him by her side.

Even so, he couldn’t deny the break was a relief; being around Nora nonstop for almost an entire week was _exhausting_. Not that the paladin didn’t enjoy her company, because he certainly did, but they were just _very_ different people. Where Danse was all about decorum, Nora always did her own thing and went her own way; he preferred rules and order but she enjoyed being insubordinate; Danse didn’t joke around much and often misunderstood her quips, but Nora always poked fun at him and eased any tension with humor; and while the paladin controlled his emotions, the knight was typically all over the place and up and down – not that he blamed her, of course, considering she’d been through so much trauma recently.

Still, the two of them were nearly the same age and yet, at times, she acted even younger than the squires. Some people never grew up.

But maybe that was what drew him to her – her youthfulness and humor despite how he didn’t really understand it half the time. She was so different from the other people he’d met – different from Sarah, Amelia, Cutler, Arthur, all of them. There was something about her that hadn’t been tainted by the wasteland yet; she had hope in her eyes that no one else did – at least not to that amount. She wasn’t raised as a wastelander or soldier; she was raised as a soft, prewar woman who wasn’t supposed to be in this world.

There was a saying he remembered Cutler using a long time ago – something about how there were two types of people in the world: those who saw the glass as half-empty and those who saw the glass as half-full. He’d even used glasses of bourbon to demonstrate his point and had scolded Danse when his friend pointed out they weren’t, in fact, halfway. But Cutler got his point across and for the longest time, the paladin used that as a way to categorize people. 

Ingram? Half-full.

Kells? Half-empty.

Haylen? Half-full.

Cutler? Half-empty.

Rhys? Half-empty.

But Danse eventually expanded on that concept because he was never able to categorize himself or even Arthur Maxson – realizing the two of them just saw the glass as a glass, neither half-empty nor half-full. It was merely a glass.

And for a while, those three categories worked out fine; most people fit into half-empty or half-full while very few fit into the _’just seeing the glass as a glass’_ option. But when Nora came along, he wasn’t able to categorize her into any of those options; she saw things differently than the rest of the Commonwealth – than the rest of the wasteland – and that made Danse rethink his strategy entirely.

The vault dweller didn’t see the glass as half-empty, half-full, or even as just a glass. She saw it as _refillable._

Nora never settled for what was in front of her, knowing she had to go out and improve things if she wanted them to get better, which was why she was the General of the Minutemen — because she wanted to make the Commonwealth a safe place for settlers. That was why she refused to accept the fact her son was taken by the Institute and let him go, and instead allowed the fire of a vengeful mother to fuel her rage in her search for her lost boy. That was why the revenge of her husband’s murder had allowed her to hunt down the man who took his life. And that was why she was drawn to a broken Arthur Maxson, determined to fix him.

Nora never settled nor accepted what was; she would change the world if she could. And she would, undoubtedly.

And that fact alone was the reason everyone was drawn to her – Preston, Cait, MacCready, Arthur, even Danse. She was a fighter who could rally anyone behind her, and right now, she had a rapidly-growing militia, the entire Commonwealth, and a massive military organization at her back – all which would fight alongside her.

The moment the metal arm of the ship extended to clasp the vertibird, Nora startled awake with a gasp. Her body sat up straight, arms flailing and sending her helmet flying from her lap and straight out the open side of the vertibird. He couldn’t see her face, but he already knew her eyes were wide, and her jaw dropped as she leaned forward just enough to watch it fall to its doom, disappearing from her vision before it pummeled the ocean water below. She slowly turned to face him, lips pursed, and Danse just met her with an irritated glare.

“Whoops?”

The paladin shook his head disapprovingly – she was always reckless, but maybe that came with the territory of being prewar, or just being _Nora_ – before bringing himself to stand and exiting the vertibird once it docked; he was sure to keep his helmet tightly gripped under his arm and not make the same embarrassing mistake his subordinate had. Nora followed close behind, though remained quiet.

After her confession their second night in the Glowing Sea regarding how she didn’t think the Elder cared about her, Danse figured she was antsy about coming back and seeing the man. He didn’t approve of it, but it was none of his business. Arthur was a grown man and Nora a grown woman and they could both make adult decisions. Hopefully.

Still, Danse had to accept that.

They entered the command deck, traversing around the sets of stairs and ladder to move into the observation deck where Elder Maxson, Proctor Ingram, and Lancer-Captain Kells stood. Maxson, of course, faced away from everyone as he stared out the large window, hands clasped behind his back. Ingram and Kells seemed to be discussing something quietly; Kells’ stance similar to Arthur’s but Ingram remained much more relaxed – she never was a stickler for decorum. Still, she was an excellent soldier, and it was a shame Arthur never let her back out in the field.

Upon entrance, Nora seemed unable to control herself, but why he ever expected her to anymore was beyond him.

”What’s up, comrades?” she blurted out. “Did everyone miss me?”

Kells stiffened his posture at the improper greeting while Ingram allowed a grin to spread across her face. “Good to see you back in one piece, Parker,” she said. Her eyes then shifted to the paladin and she gave him a nod, though the grin never lessened. “And you, too, Danse.”

He straightened his back, standing up tall and returning the greeting. “Proctor Ingram, Lancer-Captain Kells, Elder Maxson. It’s good to see you again.”

Only then did Arthur finally turn around, sky blue eyes looking up to the paladin across the room before flicking to the knight. His expression was blank like it was most of the time – a face and body forged from the depths of eternal steel, almost proving the myths true. Almost. “Paladin Danse, Knight Parker. I trust you have good news for us?”

“Wow, okay,” Nora began, placing metal-clad hands on her hips, “No _’welcome home, Nora,’_ or _’how are you doing, Nora?’_ or even a _’of course we missed you, Nora, you’re the best!’”_ She crinkled her nose, and it was times like this Danse had trouble telling whether she was seriously scolding her three superior officers or, like usual, joking.

She had strange humor.

“But alright, that’s fine,” she began again, her tone of voice almost trying to make it seem like she was masking injured feelings before returning back to normal. “Yeah, we have good news.” The vault dweller reached into the bag slung over her shoulder, pulling out a few large sheets of paper that were rolled up together, held in their form by a rubber band. She handed them over to the Elder, who delicately pulled the band off before unrolling them.

But as his eyes scanned over what was on the pages, a furrow creased his forehead, crinkling the scar that ran above his left eyebrow. “… What is this, knight? And why does it look like a five-year-old drew it?” he asked, his voice skeptical to what he was looking at in front of him.

Ingram and Kells leaned over to peek at the papers; the proctor’s eyebrows shot up while the lancer-captain scowled in disapproval.

Danse expected these reactions.

“That, my dear Elder,” Nora began, once again being unable to control her childish ways, “Is a signal interceptor thing-a-ma-jig that we need to build. Virgil told us the synths use teleportation as a means to get in and out of the Institute, which I sort of already figured out after…” But she stopped, her eyes lowering to the floor for a moment.

Danse looked over, brows furrowed as he parted his lips to speak, but he didn’t get the chance to; Nora faded back in just as quickly as she faded out.

”The signal interceptor will allow us to hijack the teleportation signal and send one of us instead of the synth requesting it.”

“An impressive concept. But why is it drawn in a colored wax?” Arthur asked, running his index finger over one of the lines on the paper and then rubbing it with his thumb.

“That’s crayon, _sir_.”

Sky blue eyes snapped up to her – a warning. Danse’s cheeks flushed at the mere action despite the fact it didn’t even involve him. Nora was certainly embarrassing. 

“I didn’t ask what it was, Knight Parker, I asked _why_ it was written in it,” Arthur retorted.

“Well,” Nora began, glancing over to Danse; they locked eyes for a second, and the paladin saw the hesitation. Should they tell the Elder about Virgil or let him listen to the logs?

Better to get it over with now. “Virgil,” Danse started, taking over the conversation, “Used a strain of the FEV virus the Institute had in order to turn himself into a super mutant so he could hide in the Glowing Sea. He knew they wouldn’t search nor find him there. So, a crayon was easier to hold, I suppose.”

Arthur bristled and Danse saw Nora’s jaw tense from the corner of his eye. “And did you kill this _abomination_ after you retrieved all the useful information from it?”

“No, we didn’t,” she answered.

The Elder’s eyes turned to her, shooting daggers – it was the closest thing to emotion Arthur ever got, and even then, Danse wasn’t sure if it was a real emotion or something he did solely because that’s how he was taught to react in certain types of situations.

“And why not?”

“Because he might have a cure inside the Institute, though it’s not yet finished. I told him I’d retrieve it for him once I’m inside so he could change back to human again.”

Arthur’s lip curled in disgust. “You allowed that _thing_ to keep breathing because it _might_ have a cure?”

Nora held her composure, however; and in the face of an irritated Elder Arthur Maxson with a scowling Lancer-Captain Kells at his side, it was certainly an impressive feat. But what unnerved Danse was the small smile that cracked her lips — it was almost threatening.

”Elder,” she said quietly, and Arthur bristled again. Danse thought about stopping her, but if Arthur hadn’t done it himself, then perhaps it meant he was willing to hear her out. “Let’s assume Virgil’s cure actually does work and, because we help him become human again, he gives it to us to reproduce. Do you want the Brotherhood of Steel to be known as the ones who _could_ have stopped the super mutant pandemic and returned lost family members but _chose not to?”_

“Stand down, Knight Parker,” Kells snapped, straightening his back. The Lancer-Captain was clearly not impressed with her backtalk – not that Danse could really blame him. She did it a lot, but he just got used to it after a while.

“It’s quite alright, Lancer-Captain,” Arthur said, though his eyes never shifted away from Nora.

There was something in the Elder’s gaze that Danse couldn’t quite parse, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “She is correct. Assuming this… assuming _Virgil_ can finish the cure and it works, we may be able to reproduce it and help save humankind in an additional aspect.”

The smile on Nora’s face shifted into a triumphant smirk but there was a long silence as she and Arthur stared one another down before Ingram finally interjected, the grin that had been on her face when Nora stepped up to challenge her superior now only slightly fading.

”So, what do we need to build the signal interceptor?” she asked.

Nora tipped her head up but backed down first, letting her eyes turn over to the proctor; only then did Arthur tear his gaze away as the victor of their staring contest. “He wrote a list of everything we need,” she answered, motioning to the papers in Arthur’s hands. The Elder shifted through them before a list landed on top; the writing was sloppy, but still legible. “If there’s something on it you don’t have, I might have it at a settlement, so let me know. If I don’t, I can go out and scavenge.”

But the paladin and knight looked to one another before she turned her gaze back to Arthur again. There was more. There was always more. “Also,” she added before a look of impatience spread across Maxson’s face – an expression Danse knew well when in the company of Nora, “We have to kill an Institute courser.”

Even through the thick brown beard on Arthur’s face, Danse could see his jaw tense. Facial hair really did make him look older. Then again, so did the stress.

“Virgil told me where and how I can find one,” she added again, “They have these chips in their heads that allow them to relay in and out of the Institute. To complete the signal interceptor, we need one of those chips.”

“I’ll put together a team, then.”

“No,” Nora replied abruptly. It caught everyone off guard; Ingram’s eyebrows raised while Kells scowled and Arthur’s eyes were staring liquid fire into the knight in front of him. “I’ll go. This is my mission and I’m seeing it out to the end. Besides, sending a bunch of soldiers in power armor is far from sneaky and you might need stealth for this.”

“Knight Parker,” Danse interjected; she turned to look at him, “Maybe you don’t realize it, but you, yourself, do not possess any ability of stealth.”

Nora’s eyebrows furrowed and she poked her bottom lip out, pouting like a child; another youthful action. “Alright, _paladin_. Harsh, but fair.” She mumbled a word beneath her breath that definitely sounded like _’traitor’_ before turning her attention back to the Elder. “I’ll take Danse and some people of _my_ choosing with me. People who I trust with my life and know their combat skills well.”

Danse could have rolled his eyes. He knew who she’d bring, and he disapproved – and if Arthur knew, he’d probably disapprove and might even forbid it. But it was her mission, she was right about that. The Brotherhood was just tagging along for now.

The Elder seemed to think on it for a moment, letting it roll around in his head before answering. “Very well,” he finally agreed. “But I want a comms link open between Danse and the Prydwen at all times during your mission. Is that understood?”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” she said. Arthur’s eyes narrowed just slightly at her. Another warning? There was something about the look he gave her, but Danse just couldn’t place his finger on it. Still, the papers were rolled back up and secured with the rubber band before being passed over to Ingram.

“Paladin,” the Elder said as he turned to Danse once the papers were handed off, “Please report to Proctor Quinlin to hand over your logs from your mission.”

“Yes, Elder Maxson.” Once he was dismissed along with the proctor and lancer-captain, he turned and began to move toward the ladder, but he heard the rest of the conversation on the way.

“Wait, why not me?” Nora asked.

“Two reasons. One, because I know you likely didn’t record many of them and you definitely didn’t carry them on you. And two, because we’re going to have a private discussion about your insubordination.”

Oh, god.


	20. Nora’s Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His free hand went to her shoulder, gently turning her around to face him – oh god, he was still naked. Why was he still fucking naked? _Maybe because you’re in the goddamn shower, Nora; use your fucking brain_ – as the hand on her forehead went to cup her jaw. Chocolate brown eyes stared down into her blue ones while a callused thumb ran over her cheekbone, and she had to resist the urge to turn her face into it. For a long moment, she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, and her stomach tightened at the mere thought of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter contains non-consensual voyeurism.

After her conversation with Maxson, Nora was directed to drop her suit off in the bay and then shower. She initially thought about going to his room to use his private bathroom, but she wasn’t sure if she was even allowed to; and rather than dwelling on how much trouble she’d get into by ‘requisitioning’ his quarters – as he’d described it last time – she, instead, went for the group showers shared by everyone in the Brotherhood after snatching a clean jumpsuit along the way. She’d probably need to start storing some underwear and bras on the ship from now on considering she wasn’t going to have anything to wear underneath the jumpsuit, though — assuming she could even get the damn thing on. Oh, well. Time to live free, or whatever.

Upon entering the showers, she was relieved to find they were empty. Before the war, she’d been fairly self-conscious of her body despite Nate reassuring her there was no reason to be. She wasn’t thin, her body was covered in stretch marks, and her breasts were anything but perky; because of this, she avoided public showers at the gym and didn’t wear anything that revealed the silvery lines that covered much of her flesh. And maybe some of that self-consciousness had drifted over into this new world with her despite there being an extremely attractive younger man – in a position of power, no less – essentially humping her leg every time she walked by. But, hell, Arthur had seen some of that self-consciousness the first time he made her undress.

Still, she peeled off her clothes just like any other time she showered and stepped under the lukewarm stream of water.

She just really wished they were _stalls_ rather than, well, open showers. What was this, prison?

Even prisoners deserved privacy.

When Danse came in soon after she started washing, she almost regretted not going to shower in Arthur’s room. Really, the vaultie should have expected him to show up considering he’d been stuck in his armor for an entire week alongside her, and she knew he _definitely_ needed a shower. But it still made her face turn red as she shifted so her side was facing him rather than her front or back, and one arm wrapped over her breasts, the other her stomach, while her leg slightly shifted forward as if she was really able to hide her nakedness while standing out in the open.

The paladin noticed her almost immediately, however, and his face flushed while his eyes diverted away out of respect of her privacy. “Would you like me to come back later?”

“What? No, of course not. You need a shower more than I do. I’d be sentencing everyone out there to death by smell if I made you wait any longer.”

The corners of his mouth twitched just before he nodded his head and set his clothes and towel down on one of the benches, then started stripping his jumpsuit off. Nora turned her eyes away, instead ducking her head beneath the stream of water so her hair got wet and stuck to her face. She allowed her arms to move away from hiding herself at that point, figuring Danse was respectful enough to not try to sneak a peek.

Of course, he chose the shower that was literally furthest from her, and that was fine; she’d rather not feel the need to glance over at him to make sure he wasn’t looking at _her_ – and yet she still glanced anyway. Because of fucking course.

It was maybe a minute after he finished undressing before she looked, her eyes landing on him once he was beneath the water – but then she couldn’t tear them away. His back was to her, the stream hitting the top of his head and running through thick black hair, water separating into rivulets as it slid down his body, trailing over lean muscles until it pooled at the floor and began circling into the drain. He lifted his hands to run his fingers through his hair, letting the water soak it.

But that’s when her eyes went to his ass. Why was it always the ass? And furthermore, what was it with these Brotherhood men having nice asses? Arthur had a _fine_ ass and, apparently, so did the paladin. It was like they did a set of squats eight times each day! What was the name of that workout day again? Ass Day?

Arthur Day. Maybe they should rename it to Danse Day.

Arthur-Danse Day. Darther Day?

And Danse was built, too; muscles rippled beneath his skin, though he was leaner than Arthur. Between them, the Elder was slightly shorter but much bulkier while Danse was a bit taller and had a slenderer waist. Like a goddamn prewar swimmer’s body. Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with her?

Everything. Everything was wrong with her, because she got caught staring at _yet another_ person’s ass again – only this time it was much worse.

He turned around before she even realized what was happening, slender eyebrows raised at the view, but then his _ass_ became his _dick_ and her face turned a bright red. Immediately, Nora turned her back to him, eyes shut tightly as she thumped her forehead against the wall in front of her over and over and over again. Why did she do that? Why was she like this? Why was she a fucking _idiot_?

“Parker.”

Her name said so softly with that sweet baritone voice should have been illegal; that would be her first act as President – General? – of the Commonwealth: make it illegal for Danse to say her name. It made her breath hitch in her throat and she debated on whether she should even answer him or just keep banging her head against the wall. If she ignored him, maybe he’d leave her alone and she could pretend none of that ever happened. She could then finish her shower and go back to Arthur’s room and then fuck the Elder rather than the paladin and—god _damnit_ what was wrong with her!?

But why the _fuck_ was she so nervous, anyway? She’d never had a problem approaching people before when she wanted to. Sure, she was self-conscious at times, but she’d approached tons of people! Ex-lovers, _Arthur fucking Maxson._ What was even different this time?

Well, she was naked, for one.

Oh, and it was Danse. The sweet, respectful paladin with the silky-smooth voice who basically said he’d get on his knees for her because he had no idea what ‘subtle’ meant.

The silence must have been long and awkward when she didn’t answer, though, and instead just kept thumping her forehead against the wall – but when a hand was squished between her face and the tile she kept smacking it against before she was able to do it again, she froze and tensed her jaw.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said softly. Too softly. Too fucking soft. Too fucking _close_.

“I’m okay,” she replied through gritted teeth, though she had no idea if he was even able to hear it over the stream of water.

His free hand went to her shoulder, gently turning her around to face him – oh god, he was still naked. Why was he still fucking naked? _Maybe because you’re in the goddamn shower, Nora; use your fucking brain_ – as the hand on her forehead went to cup her jaw. Chocolate brown eyes stared down into her blue ones while a callused thumb ran over her cheekbone, and she had to resist the urge to turn her face into it. For a long moment, she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, and her stomach tightened at the mere thought of it.

But he didn’t, because he was too fucking polite, or maybe she was too much of a coward.

“Please don’t hurt yourself,” he said.

And then his hand dropped and he just… went right back over to his shower. Nora’s jaw dropped as she stared after him, and not even at his ass this time, which was an achievement because _fuck_.

“Wh—” she began, about to question what the hell just happened, but before she could even get the first word out, the door to the showers opened and in walked Arthur fucking Maxson.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Nora was supposed to shower and clean herself, and he would, uh, deal with her _insubordination_ later on tonight. So why the fuck was he here?

But that was fine. That was just fine. Perfect. Great. Fantastic. _Outstanding._ Fuck!

The vaultie’s face was bright red at this point and she turned back to the wall, debating on hitting her forehead on it again – or maybe just smashing her face through it. Decisions, decisions.

“Arthur,” Danse greeted, and it took everything in her not to chuck the bar of soap at him — she still needed it.

“Danse,” the Elder replied.

Maybe she’d chuck it at him, instead. It was so goddamn casual while Danse was naked; he’d just touched her face and she just didn’t know how to fucking react. Well, until she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind and a coarse beard press against her neck, all of it making her startle.

”Why didn’t you use my shower?” that husky voice mumbled into her neck, as his lips placed a gentle kiss to her skin.

She could feel Arthur’s bare body pressed against her back – he’d stripped.

Of course he’d stripped, they were in the goddamn showers. _Think_ , Nora!

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to,” she replied.

“The rules have never stopped you before.”

That… was true. Nora wasn’t a stickler for rules like the ones the Brotherhood made; maybe that was a trait she adopted after being thrust into the wasteland, she wasn’t sure, but she never cared to follow rules that just made no damn sense. Not anymore, at least. Just like how not looking at Danse’s ass made no se— _stop trying to look!_

Alright, so why was she in here, then? Why didn’t she go into Arthur’s room to shower? The water pressure wasn’t any different, he hadn’t forbid it nor encouraged it – because, let’s face it, if he’d told her not to she absolutely would have done it regardless – and… well, what else? The only other reason she could think of that would make her come in here was… NOPE.

Not Danse.

Not. Danse.

It wasn’t because of fucking Danse.

Well, not _fucking_ Danse.

Perhaps one day.

“Maybe I just wanted to see some bare asses,” she retorted, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Open mouth, insert foot? Or just shove the entire fucking foot through her teeth, that was fine. Whichever way worked, because the low, possessive growl Arthur made against her neck made her shudder.

Well, it was too late to go back now. Might as well dig the entire grave rather than just a hole.

“Getting jealous, Elder?” she asked, turning her head just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

“No,” he said quietly before placing soft kisses against her shoulder. “I don’t get jealous, pet.”

So, he was really going to lie about it, huh? Right to her face – uh, back? Real nice. “So you marking my neck and shoulders after you found out about Mac was… what, just coincidence?”

Teeth sunk into her shoulder at that point, punishing her for the backtalk, and she gasped. But when the sound of the other showerhead turned off, she knew Danse was excusing himself from the room whether he was done washing or not. She heard his wet feet pad across the tile over to where he left his items as he went to dry himself off to get dressed.

Yeah, Nora really did that whole ‘open mouth, insert foot’ thing. What size shoe did Danse wear? Maybe she’d just eat his fucking boot. Or maybe he could step on her throat while she touched herse— _enough!_

But Arthur… wasn’t happy with her. And, apparently, he wanted to prove a point.

“Paladin,” he called, and Nora felt her heart stop.

This was how she died – in the fucking shower with a yao guai stuck to her back and another one across the room. Great.

There was hesitation in Danse’s voice when he answered. “Yes, Elder Maxson?”

“Were you done showering?”

“I—” Danse paused, hesitating again, “It’s quite alright, I can come back later.” The man could never lie worth shit. 

“Yes or no, Danse?”

“… No.”

“Then I suggest you finish showering. But do me a favor and lock the door first.”

“Danse, you—” she went to tell the paladin he didn’t have to stay, but teeth dug into her shoulder, making her cry out. “Fuck!” Real smooth, Nora. _‘Danse you fuck’_ probably sounded real nice.

There was a faint click of the lock and after wet feet padded across the floor again, the showerhead Danse had originally been under turned back on.

Arthur’s thick fingers slid between her legs, slowly circling her clit and bringing out another gasp from her throat. She jolted back a bit, pushing her ass against his thighs – something he appreciated as he let out a low groan against her shoulder since it meant her lower back rubbed against his cock. He was already hard, his length pressed down against the curve of her ass crack. But the slow circles didn’t last long before his hand slid further between her thighs, two fingers sinking into her cunt, forcing a moan that bounced off the walls in the small room. The Elder didn’t give her a chance to adjust, though, before he started moving them in and out, the sound wet from the water pouring down her body. And once he added a third, she had to shift how she was standing just to accommodate.

He pressed his palm against her clit as he fingered her, using the friction to help her get off quickly; and with her legs trembling, they almost buckled beneath her, which would have sent her toppling to the ground if it weren’t for his free arm snaking around her middle to hold her tightly against his chest. Her hand was pressed to her mouth, trying to stifle the moan that was attempting to escape during her orgasm.

But, of course, Arthur didn’t like that because he was a greedy, possessive bastard or some other negative descriptor. He pulled his fingers out and spun her around to face him, then shoved her back against the wall, pressing his body tightly against hers. Nora had the wind knocked out of her, but the moment their lips crashed together, she made a soft noise into the kiss. He didn’t hold it for long, though, before he went to her neck, his lips and coarse beard pressing against the tender skin there as she sighed and shivered against him.

“I’m going to fuck you, pet, and you’re going to scream for me. Do you understand?” he asked as he hooked one hand beneath her leg, lifting it around his hip, then did the same to the other so he hoisted her up; her legs clung to his hips while his chest pushed her firmly against the wall.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, eyes closing as her head tipped back and to the side for him – offering herself. She crossed her ankles against his lower back, just above his ass, while he slipped one hand between them to guide himself into her; and once the head of his cock was pressed against her cunt, he shoved in to the hilt, making her scream.

Normally, he wasn’t so rough right away, but this was… different, somehow. Maybe it was everything she’d said to him before she left, or that she was gone for an entire week after they’d had some amount of intimacy despite him trying to push her away, or maybe it was the fact Danse was standing not that far away, trying not to watch or listen while he buried his face against his forearm as he was leaned into the wall.

But he was listening; all three of them knew that.

Arthur remained still, their hips flush, as he was kissing her throat gently while she adjusted despite his initial roughness. She was already panting, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the sudden stretch that burned between her legs.

Maxson wasn’t small — he was fucking _thick_ — and he knew that; and yet he’d still shoved into her without properly prepping, forcing her body to suddenly stretch and make way for his girth all at once. And, fuck, it _hurt,_ but she still held him close; she still pressed the side of her face against his, her eyes closing while she tried to convince herself to relax.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice quiet and considerate. That was the Arthur she knew.

Nora nodded her head slightly, but he remained still – not moving until she gave him some sign he could. One of her hands went up to his hair, threading her fingers into it, the other arm crossing behind his broad shoulders as she kept the sides of their faces pressed together. And when she started rolling her hips, that was her sign that he could move again; he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting her get used to the feeling before he even picked up the pace. Her moans were soft at first while he went slow, but once he began to pick up his pace – once he was pounding into her, forcing her body up and down with each thrust, making their skin slap together and the sounds of each hit echo off the walls – she got louder.

“Fuck,” she breathed; but when her eyes opened, they locked with a pair that was staring from across the room.

Danse had turned around, jaw tense, dick hard – but not touching himself. He just stared as if he were unsure what else to do, like he didn’t want to continue his shower, but he also didn’t want to leave because he knew the Elder would be pissed that he’d disobeyed. And while she knew it was wrong – fuck, it was wrong for Arthur to even make him stay, but she couldn’t do shit about that – she just couldn’t help but hold his gaze.

Maybe it was an attempt at an apology, to give him something to think about later or so she could brand the image of his naked form in her mind. She had no idea, but what she did know is she couldn’t look anywhere but at him.

Arthur’s face was buried against her shoulder, placing bites and kisses, bringing out louder moans from her – but he was too preoccupied to pay attention to her face to notice she was staring at Danse across the room. Which was good, because she didn’t want to get spanked with a wet ass. That would suck.

Part of her wanted to see the paladin touch himself, though she knew he’d never do that – she also knew this wasn’t something he wanted to witness, and his body was only reacting because bodies betrayed their owners all the time. Still, while he had every opportunity to look away, he didn’t, and instead held her gaze while Arthur fucked her and bit at her shoulder and neck.

And then the Elder shifted his hold on her, wrapping one of his arms beneath her knee to angle it up more and allow himself deeper, finally hitting that bundle of nerves just right. Her eyes grew wide as she gasped, mouth opening to let out what would have been a loud moan, but nothing escaped. The hand in his hair gripped the wet locks while the one on his shoulder dragged across the top of his back, leaving a long line of red welts along his flesh.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh, god, I’m gonna—”

“Fuck, yes. Cum around my cock,” he growled against her.

But his encouragements made no difference to her as she was still focused on Danse. And when she finally came, she couldn’t bring herself to hold back – instead letting it all out and just _keening_ in pleasure. Her nails clawed at Arthur’s back while he kept hitting that same sensitive spot inside her, not slowing down or letting up, and it drew out her orgasm while those red welts overlapped enough times in enough places to have a few trickles of blood get washed away with the shower.

“What do you say, pet?”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you – _fuck_ – thank you, sir! _thankyousirthankyousirthankyousir!_ ”

He helped her ride her orgasm out, though unlike usual, he didn’t seem too interested in drawing out their time together. Instead, he just made sure she came around him at least once before seeking his own release. 

“Fuck, Nora,” he groaned, hips snapping harder against hers. “I’m so close.”

She briefly wondered where he’d claim her in front of Danse. Her belly? Thighs? Mouth? Face? Her face was a likely spot; she imagined Arthur stringing his cum all over her cheeks, lips, and nose so the only thing Danse could see the next time he looked at her was her cum-covered face.

But that wasn’t what happened, and if they were alone, she would have caught it beforehand – she would have been able to see what he was about to do and put a stop to that shit before the idea even completely formed in his head.

But they weren’t alone, and that was precisely why Arthur buried himself balls deep and came deep in her cunt, moaning softly against her shoulder since he wasn’t used to the feeling of coming inside someone.

Nora would have yelled at him – she should have – but she was too far gone at this point, not giving a goddamn fuck about it. She’d yell at him later on.

After a few moments, Arthur slipped out, making her shudder as some of his cum dripped from her in the process. He pressed soft kisses to her ear. “What do you say?” he whispered.

“Thank you, sir,” she answered, and she could _see_ Danse’s cock pulsing from across the room.

“For what?”

“Making me cum.”

“And?”

Nora bit her lower lip, her nails digging into his shoulder again. Was he really trying to get her to thank him for coming in her? Fuck that. She just shook her head. But a sharp bite was made beneath her ear and she whined, only to be reminded of what she should be thanking him for.

“Thank me for claiming you, Nora.”

Oh, jesus goddamn butter biscuits was that _hot as fuck._

Thank you for claiming me, sir.”

“Mm. Good girl. Now, clean me off so I can get back to work.”

The Elder set her down gently, ensuring she was steady enough before letting go. She then dropped to her knees and slid him into her mouth, sucking him clean by caving her cheeks and swirling her tongue along his cock to make sure she got it all. And once he was satisfied she’d done the job, he pulled his cock from her mouth and reached down to stroke his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Very good girl,” he praised, leaning down to place a firm kiss to her lips; it only lasted a second before he stood up straight again. “Finish up here and meet me in my quarters within the hour. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good.”

With that, Arthur moved away and over to his clothes, pulling them on and then leaving her and Danse alone. While the Elder seemed to be jealous when he first came in the showers with them, that no longer seemed to be a concern. Gee, wonder why.

Nora remained on the ground, hesitant to even look up at her paladin. Would he even want to look at her again? Would he even think of her the same? He’d walked in on her and MacCready, but that was different than having to stand there and watch her and his _superior,_ especially a superior he considered a good friend. Plus, he’d already shown clear disapproval in every relationship she’d had, so what would he say _now?_

Nothing, apparently, because he immediately dried off, threw his clothes on, and fled.

She was alone.


	21. Arthur’s Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was one thing in this world he would call his own, it would be Nora Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter contains non-consensual voyeurism.

Arthur had been trained since childhood to calculate each move he made long before he made it and to determine what his opponent would do in response, so it was safe to say it wasn’t often he acted on impulse. Life was a chess game and he played against men who knew nothing of the board they hovered over, risking their kings and protecting their queens because they didn’t understand what was valuable and what was worth letting go.

He was always ten steps ahead — always.

Until Nora.

She made him act on impulse — made him lose control over his life and he just could not understand how or why. He craved her but he also craved control, though which of those cravings were stronger, he didn’t know.

Yet, when she returned from the Glowing Sea, he felt his stomach twist in knots – a feeling he only remembered having years ago when Sarah Lyons had returned to the Citadel after a week-long mission.

It was… different. _Uncomfortable._ He didn’t enjoy it and wanted it to go away but with each smile and snarky comment this vault dweller made, he felt himself losing ground in the game until he was no longer ten steps ahead, but nine, then eight, and soon five.

And by the time he found himself standing outside the showers, he’d lost every single advantage and was now level with the same men he’d played and won against over and over and over. It was another uncomfortable feeling; something he didn’t really know how to process. But Nora made him lose that control and he needed to know _why._

He never would have done this with anyone else and he certainly never would have made his friend – his _best_ friend; his _only_ friend, for that matter – watch as he fucked a woman who was the closest thing to a stable relationship he’d ever had, but with the way Danse looked at her, how concerned he seemed, the way he clearly _yearned_ for Nora… it made Arthur’s chest ache. And maybe that was the only sort of emotion the Elder was destined to feel – jealousy; and perhaps it would be his undoing and end whatever it was he and Nora had, because Arthur knew he’d fucked up the moment he stepped foot into the showers.

But then again, Danse had fucked up the moment he’d approached Nora while they were both naked, and Arthur had just caught the tail end of it as the paladin was walking back to his side of the showers, away from her. Maybe that was when something in Arthur truly snapped – or maybe it snapped long before this, he wasn’t sure – but that was when he knew he had to make a point. He needed to lay down the rules – verbally or nonverbally, it didn’t matter – and that Nora was _his_ property.

And so, he’d stripped, having no shame of baring himself naked in front of two people who’d seen his marred body plenty of times before, only to press himself against the vaultie’s back after greeting Danse like he hadn’t just walked in on something between the two. What, exactly, he’d walked in on, he wasn’t sure, but that didn’t matter because it was still _something._

Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest. The water that covered her bare skin wet the dark expanse of hair on his front; she was hot, though the water was just barely lukewarm. It was hard to get truly hot water on the ship, but so long as it wasn’t cold, most were fine with it.

“Why didn’t you use my shower?” he mumbled into her neck before placing a gentle kiss there.

She shuddered against him and it only made blood rush to his cock. She claimed she didn’t know if she was allowed to, and he knew that was a lie; she’d never cared about obeying his rules before and had often went out of her way just to _disobey_ them – whether they were Brotherhood rules or even just orders he’d given her in the bedroom. But just the mere fact she was lying to him right now was taunting.

“The rules have never stopped you before.”

His words made her pause, and it appeared to him that perhaps she didn’t realize she was lying – perhaps her lie was more obvious to _him_ than it was to _her,_ and he was pointing out the obvious reason of why she chose to use the public showers rather than use his private one like she normally did.

Danse.

“Maybe I just wanted to see some bare asses.”

He growled against her neck, though less from possession or jealousy and more from annoyance. Nora used humor as a coping mechanism and a way to mask her uneasiness at whatever she was dealing with – he’d caught onto that fairly quickly.

“Getting jealous, Elder?”

And again, she was taunting him – but he knew why. Not just because she was uneasy but because she enjoyed pushing his buttons. When they were alone, she said things like this to urge him to fuck her and make her scream; she’d teased him about how he was jealous of MacCready – the miscreant cave child – just so he’d fuck her to shut her up. And she’d taunted him with backtalk in front of other people when he had to break up a fight between her and Proctor Teagan in public, then she just gave a slight smirk when he ordered her to his quarters, only to spank her and fuck her numb.

She did these things because she wanted his attention, and he knew that. He knew how she worked, like she was a clock and he a horologist who’d taken her apart over and over again, marking where each gear and spring and chain belonged before he put her back together. He knew what made her tick and she knew what riled him up, which was why she always pressed his buttons on _certain_ issues and in very _specific_ ways.

And it was why they fit together; she was the buckle to his coat and he the lace to her boot. 

So, when she taunted him this time by teasing him about being jealous, he knew what she wanted whether she admitted it or not. He’d planned to save it for after she finished showering – well, at least he did until he felt that twist in his chest and found himself outside the shower room door – but here was fine, too.

“No,” he replied quietly and placed a couple soft kisses to her shoulder, “I don’t get jealous, pet.” Which was a lie, and they both knew it. But he’d rather the Prydwen get blown to pieces by the castle mortars than admit he was feeling _jealous,_ especially when he rarely ever felt anything at all.

“So you marking my neck and shoulders after you found out about Mac was… what, just coincidence?”

He’d had enough of her taunting now. Arthur sunk his teeth into her shoulder, punishing her for her words – it didn’t matter that Danse was across the room, because he’d fuck her right then and there if it meant she’d learn a lesson.

Then again, she’d never learn, but he’d still fuck her over and over and over again with the false pretense that she would.

Nora gasped and the sound was immediately followed by the showerhead across the room being turned off as the paladin moved toward his belongings on the bench. He was leaving – but with how much he’d been staring at Nora and how eagerly he followed her around like a damn wide-eyed puppy who’d been adopted by a new master, Arthur knew lines had to be drawn.

And if he couldn’t draw lines between him and Nora, perhaps he could draw them between her and Danse.

“Paladin,” he called, lifting his head just enough so his voice wouldn’t be muffled without turning around.

Danse was hesitant to answer – good. He should be. “Yes, Elder Maxson?” He was back to the formal titles, it seemed, meaning he must have been uncomfortable.

“Were you done showering?”

“I—” Another hesitation. “It’s quite alright, I can come back later.” But that wouldn’t do.

“Yes or no, Danse?”

“… No.” Perfect.

“Then I suggest you finish showering. But do me a favor and lock the door first.”

Arthur already knew what to expect from Nora, however.

”Danse, you—” she began, but he quickly dug his teeth into her shoulder, making her cry out. “Fuck!”

There was the _click_ of the lock and then the sound of Danse padding across the floor with wet feet, turning the showerhead on to finish his shower; but they all knew he wouldn’t be finishing it.

The Elder unwrapped one arm from around Nora’s stomach, sliding his hand down her skin and between her legs to allow his fingers to make slow circles on her clit; she gasped and jolted back, pushing her ass into his thighs and her lower back into his groin, bringing a moan from his chest. He’d been hard since he first pressed himself against her, so she definitely felt how his thick cock was settled down into the curve of her ass crack.

But he didn’t focus on her clit for long, instead giving her that small amount of stimulation to make her slightly wet before forcing his hand further between her legs and sinking two fingers into her cunt. She moaned, and Arthur let his free hand slide up to her chin to tip her head back against his chest, allowing the sound to echo off the walls rather than dissolve into the water on the floor.

He wanted to hear her scream; he wanted _Danse_ to hear her scream.

His fingers began moving instantly, eager to bring out those noises again and again and again as he stroked her inside walls, pressing his palm against her clit to increase the friction. A third was soon added, and almost immediately, her legs began trembling, threatening to buckle beneath her. But the hand that had went to her chin wrapped its arm around her midsection again, holding her steady and tightly against his chest; he wouldn’t let her fall.

She tried to quiet herself – but that was unacceptable. She was lucky he only had two hands and that both were busy, otherwise he would have pinned her wrists behind her back and between their bodies so she was forced to let those noises flow free from her throat. Instead, though, he slipped his fingers out after she came down from her orgasm and spun her around to face him. She was unprepared for his movements, and that was fine, because his hands went to her waist as he shoved her back hard against the wall, knocking the wind out of her and pressing his much larger body against her own, crashing their lips together in a rough kiss. Nora whimpered against his mouth, perhaps from the pain of hitting the wall or because she couldn’t breathe well since he was pinning her with his weight, but he broke the kiss and dropped his mouth to her neck to press rough kisses to the skin there, shifting his body back a bit so he wasn’t leaning on her so much and instead gave her a chance to breathe.

One of his hands reached down to hook beneath her thigh to lift it, coaxing her to wrap her leg around his hip as he spoke.

“I’m going to fuck you, pet, and you’re going to scream for me. Do you understand?”

His other hand went to her other thigh, doing the same and hoisting her up so her legs clung to his hips while his chest pressed her into the wall, though he was sure not to suffocate her.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered in reply before her eyes closed and she tipped her head back and to the side, offering herself to him.

Arthur could never decide which version of Nora he enjoyed the most during sex – the entirely submissive Nora, like now, or the Nora who fought back and disobeyed. Both were exciting, though.

He placed more kisses to her neck as he reached between them, grasping his cock and lining himself up with her cunt. Normally, he would have eased in, especially since he didn’t finger her much – but he didn’t care to this time, he didn’t care to search for that self-control that would have told him to be gentle at first. He wanted her to _scream_.

He only realized his mistake too late.

Maxson shoved into her, sinking balls-deep and coaxing a pained scream from her throat as she was forced to suddenly stretch around his thickness all at once. He had to keep himself from wincing at the high-pitched noise directly in his ear, as well as the fact he realized he’d hurt her, and he remained still, letting her adjust to him as she panted. He wasn’t able to see the tears in her eyes since his face was against her throat, placing soft kisses against the column – an apology that he’d never verbally say. Not in front of Danse, at least.

But he’d make it up to her later.

When she took longer than usual to adjust, it made him worry. “Are you okay?” he whispered; his eyebrows were furrowed as he placed more kisses to her throat.

She nodded her head and that allowed him relax a bit, though he still didn’t move until she gave him the go ahead. A soft hand went into his hair, fingers threading into the wet locks, while her other arm draped across his shoulders.

The roll of her hips was what he was waiting for, but he let her do it a few times, making sure she was absolutely alright before he started slowly moving; thrusting in and out in short, slow pumps at first. Her moans were soft and encouraging, so he picked up the pace – quickly finding himself pounding into her brutally. Their hips snapped together and the force of it was making her body bounce up and down despite how she was pinned against the wall, and that only made her moans grow louder, though she no longer attempted to muffle them.

A soft _’fuck’_ was breathed into his ear and Arthur groaned in response, fingers digging into the back of her thighs as he kept fucking her, searching for her climax so he could seek his. He kept biting at her shoulder and neck, kissing and licking the spots he marked into her skin where he knew they would bruise; everyone needed to know she belonged to _him_ and _him only._ Whether or not she wore his mother’s ring or took his last name didn’t matter, because she was _his_ – she was _Arthur fucking Maxson’s,_ and no one else could have her.

If there was one thing in this world he would call his own, it would be Nora Parker.

His left arm shifted to wrap beneath her knee, holding it in the crook of his elbow as he pulled it up a bit, allowing himself to push deeper into her and, at the same time, rub right against that bundle of nerves inside her cunt over and over again. She gasped in his ear as her jaw dropped, and he prepared himself for the loud sound that would pierce his eardrum – but nothing ever came.

Except her.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh, god, I’m gonna—”

“Fuck, yes. Cum around my cock,” he growled, and it was then she finally keened.

Her nails scratched every which way at his back, leaving red welts and breaking the skin as she marked him in her own way. He’d likely have to see Cade about it later, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone to the medic about scratch marks after rough sex, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

“What do you say, pet?”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you – _fuck_ – thank you, sir! _thankyousirthankyousirthankyousir!_ ”

Her words were music, like listening to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C minor – during the first movement, Allegro con brio, when the distinctive four-note motif began, only to drop to a softer and slower sound before rapidly picking back up again.

He helped her ride her orgasm out before seeking his own, not having the desire to continue drawing this out any longer than it needed to be. He was only here to make a point – they could take their time later when she came to his quarters.

“Fuck, Nora,” he groaned as he snapped his hips harder against hers, feeling the heat coiling in his belly. “I’m so close.”

He thought about where to cum – debated on making her suck him off so he’d finish in her mouth and have to swallow his spend, and the thought of stringing himself all over her face was much more appealing than it should have been, like marking her in a different way. But he lost control again and before he knew it, he was buried balls-deep and moaning against her shoulder as he came deep in her cunt.

Yet another mistake he realized after it was too late.

But she didn’t react to it at all and instead panted into his ear while the sides of their faces were pressed together. Arthur slipped out, feeling her shudder against his chest in the process, and he pressed soft kisses to her ear before whispering in it. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” she answered. She was so obedient. Was it because of Danse?

“For what?”

“Making me cum.”

“And?”

She shook her head in response, not wanting to thank him for the rest, but that was unacceptable. He briefly bit into the skin just below her ear, garnering a whine from her.

”Thank me for claiming you, Nora,” he said in a low tone.

She hesitated but finally submitted. “Thank you for claiming me, sir.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he praised, placing a kiss to the spot he’d just bitten. “Now, clean me off so I can get back to work.”

She did the job well, like always, making sure she sucked all of her cum and his clean from his cock. He’d started to go soft after he slipped out until she started cleaning him and now… well, he wanted her again.

Not yet, though.

“Very good girl. Finish up here and meet me in my quarters within the hour. Do I make myself clear? Good.” Arthur turned and went to his clothes, using a towel to dry himself off briefly before pulling the garments back on and leaving her and Danse alone.

There was no reason for him to worry now. Danse wouldn’t touch her – not after what he’d just seen. That was the mission.

Arthur went straight to his quarters, it being late enough that he had no reason to go back to the observation deck. He stripped from his coat and hung it on the back of the chair at his desk, then sat at his terminal, reading a few messages. But one in particular stood out.

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail Terminal Maxson MX-001E**

**Fr: Knight Captain Cade CD-440KC  
To: Elder Maxson MX-001E**

**I wanted to make you aware a scribe reported the showers were locked about fifteen minutes ago and the last people to be seen entering were Paladin Danse and Knight Parker. The scribe also reported there were certain types of noises coming from inside. While fraternization isn’t technically against the Codex, it would be unwise to not address this potential relationship between Paladin Danse and Knight Parker from a medical standpoint for preventative measures.**

He’d deal with it later.

Clicking off the terminal screen, Arthur grabbed one of the reports that were stacked on his desk, opening it to read its contents. It was only a few pages long, mostly about a scribe who’d found something in the field that might be of value, but they’d put far too much unnecessary information in the report just to make it seem much more important than it actually was.

But when the door to his quarters was flung open and Nora stomped in, her face as red as a ripe tato, Arthur kept his eyes on the report though he spun his chair to face her. He knew he’d made mistakes tonight – quite a few of them, actually – but he wasn’t sure just how much backlash there would be from her.

A lot, apparently. 

“Arthur,” she snarled, her voice much different than what she’d sounded like earlier.

But the Elder held up one hand, palm flat, facing her. It was always enough to tell people they needed to stop – stop talking, stop moving, stop whatever it was they were doing until he said otherwise. He needed to finish the report and sign off on it before he forgot what he’d read and had to start reading the damned thing all over again. Granted, it wasn’t very long, but the scribe was just filling it with nonsense and he _really_ didn’t want to have to reread it later.

Then again, maybe it was also a way to bide his time so he didn’t have to face her wrath yet.

But Nora wasn’t having any of that.

She stomped across the room to him, hand snatching the folder he held and tossing it behind her, sending the papers within it flying in every which direction.

Well, she had his attention now, that was for sure.

Arthur shifted so his ankle rested on his other leg’s knee and folded his hands in his lap, blue eyes calmly looking up at her as he patiently waited.

And that was when her hand swiped across his face – a hard _slap_ that probably should have hurt but considering she hit his right side, directly where his scar was, he didn’t really feel much. His head had turned with the force of the strike, though, and he remained still for a second before slowly returning his gaze to her. He’d let her get her anger out – she’d vent, yell, push, shove, slap, whatever, and then he’d fuck her, and they’d be fine again.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked.

He never provided an answer; he didn’t have one, really, and he wasn’t sure she even wanted one, anyway. Besides, what would he say? He was jealous? Possessive? That he was feeling something he didn’t even understand? That he was losing control and it was because of her? That he was grasping at whatever he could to keep his head above water just so he didn’t drown in her very presence?

But here she was – a tempest with high-speed winds that threatened to tear down his walls and destroy everything he knew and understood.

Still, this was a private conversation and her failure to shut the door – where prying eyes were now observing from outside it – was enough for him to finally move. He stood, and she was close enough for him to almost have his chest against her, his form towering over hers. He may have been a few inches shorter than Danse, but he was still much taller than Nora – but even so, she never cowered. She glared up at him with a fire in her eyes, daring him to say or do anything; but instead, he stepped around her and went to the door, shutting it and clicking the lock secure before returning to his seat. Ankle over knee, hands folded in his lap. He’d let her continue because she needed to get it out before he fucked her numb.

“You told me you couldn’t give me what I wanted and yet you got jealous and possessive. Do you want me or not, Arthur?”

The question came as a shock – why, he wasn’t sure, because he _should_ have expected it – and he had to keep himself from furrowing his eyebrows at it, almost unsure of what she was specifically asking. Did he want her? Of course he wanted her – he _craved_ her like he’d never craved anything or anyone ever before. But he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Or he wouldn’t.

“I asked you a fucking question, Maxson,” she yelled.

The use of his last name was unusual, it was so formal when they were in private – which they certainly were now, at least physically. Whether people stood outside the door to listen to her yell at him was another thing. Nora’s voice certainly carried, just like the tears welling in her eyes carried the weight of the world.

But he still didn’t answer, and she threw her arms up in frustration, moving away so she could pace the room.

”I don’t understand you. I don’t understand what this is. Is it just sex or not? Because you getting jealous and possessive over me because of _Danse_ is just…” She cut herself off and shook her head, but he didn’t need her to finish the sentence because he already knew how it ended.

It was ridiculous, he knew that. But he’d been jealous of Danse to one extent or another since he was a child – and if there was only one sort of feeling Arthur knew like the bottom of a bottle or the way Final Judgment felt in his grip, it was jealousy deep in his gut. The paladin was 12 years his senior and didn’t even do anything to make Arthur jealous, at least not intentionally; hell, they were best friends at one point despite the age difference. Danse was there for him even when Arthur never knew how to express himself – and that was fine, because the older man never knew how to, either, though at least he could _feel_ things. And maybe that was where the jealousy stemmed from.

Danse could feel things — maybe he couldn’t express them well, but he had emotions and that meant he could offer Nora something that Arthur couldn’t. Even if it turned out the paladin was absolutely terrible at sex and Nora never had another orgasm in her life if she chose to be with him, Arthur knew she’d still choose Danse because he could reciprocate those feelings and that was what she needed. She didn’t need a man trying to possess her like he possessed his guns; she needed someone to love her – someone who _could_ love her.

But she was here, with Arthur – she was choosing him over Danse – and yet, the jealousy was still present.

Nora had calmed down a bit now, the tempest seeming to have slowly passed and moved on. Her face was still tato red and he could tell she was stewing on what she wanted to say next, but hell, Arthur didn’t even know what to say, himself.

“Arthur, I need to know what you want,” she said, her voice much softer now than it was a couple minutes ago.

It was only at that point did he allow his forehead to furrow, the scar in his left brow crinkling along with it. What did he want? He wanted her, but in what way? The fact he was even considerate of what she deserved was worrisome and not something he’d ever thought about with any of his previous subs, so perhaps his desire of keeping it as only sex and nothing more wasn’t working out.

He’d never been possessive before – that was the gift of growing up never being allowed to own anything or have, well, _feelings._ He didn’t have the luxury of claiming anything as his own until he became Elder at the age of 16. But here was this vulnerable, prewar woman who didn’t belong in this world – _his world_ – and she was offering herself to him in more than just a physical sense. She’d opened up about her nightmare, she’d comforted him when he was unsure about the state of their agreement – relationship? – she’d told him about her late husband and her missing son. She’d attempted to be intimate with him and he’d even _let her_ to an extent.

So, what did he want?

His lack of an answer was proving frustrating to her, and she ran a hand through her damp, red hair, allowing a drop of water to run down the freckles on one cheek. “I told you I could do this even if you couldn’t give me what I wanted. I told you I was fine with just having sex if that’s all you could offer, and that I wouldn’t wait for or expect more than that, but if you could give it to me one day, I’d take it.”

His eyes dropped to the floor as he recalled the moment.

_”I can’t give you what you want, Nora.”_

_“What is it you think I want?”_

_“Emotional support. Reciprocated feelings. A relationship. Love. I can’t give you any of that.”_

_”Okay,” she’d said._

_“I don’t understand. Just… okay?”_

_“Yeah. Just okay.”_

_“Elaborate.”_

_“I don’t know how to explain it, really. If you can’t give me those things, then okay. The sex is great and I’m fine with having just that. And if one day you can give me those things, then okay. But I won’t expect it or wait around.”_

He remembered that conversation well – it kept him up at night, knowing this woman was offering her mind, body, and soul to him; offering her very future. And he wanted to take it between his callused hands and cradle it like the fragile thing it was. But Arthur could never hold onto fragile things; they always broke.

“I remember,” he finally said, and his voice caught her off guard despite how quiet it was.

She looked to him with furrowed eyebrows, studying him from across the room for a long moment before she spoke again. “And I meant all of that. I’m fine with just having sex with you if that’s what you want, or if you want more, I’ll gladly take that, too. But you need to decide if you’re feeling something for me or not because I can’t do it like this.” She paused, tapping a fingertip against the tip of her nose in thought; Arthur finally looked back at her. “You’re not some emotionless monster, Arthur—” there was that word again, _monster,_ “—I know you can feel things even though you think you can’t. I’ve seen it. But you need to figure out what you want and if that includes me because you’re throwing me for a loop.”

The Elder ran a hand through his beard, brushing it out though it was no longer wet from the shower. Nora wasn’t finished, though.

”I’m still coping with the death of my husband and I’m still trying to find my son. I don’t—“ she paused, and her eyebrows furrowed again as she looked to the ground, seeming to search for the words, “—I don’t have time to play these games.” There was a slight shake of her head. “And I don’t have the desire to, either.”

When their eyes met again, she began chewing on her lip – a nervous habit. He was thinking on her words now, trying to regain the leverage he’d once held before she arrived on his ship and scattered the chess pieces before setting fire to the board. But he couldn’t find them – and so he needed to do _something_ that he knew could give him some sort of control. So, he stood, and strode across the room toward her. His movements were slow, and she watched him cautiously as if she were going back and forth with herself between the want to hit him and the want to let him approach.

But when he was close enough, he reached out and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her head up. Her jaw tensed and he knew she was not done scolding him.

“You came inside me, Arthur.”

It was his turn to let his own jaw tense. She didn’t need to say anything else because he knew her worries, and many of them were his own, as well. He’d cum inside her and that was wrong. If he’d been thinking – like he would have been if they were in private or if she was anyone _but_ Nora – then he would have tried to prove his point some other way; but, instead, he risked both their futures. And he knew it hurt her worse since she was still searching for a lost child she may not ever find.

And if she got pregnant, what would that mean for him?

Perhaps Cade had something for emergencies.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but the apology was not good enough and he knew that. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers, trying to show her he meant it – giving her a verbal and nonverbal apology, which was something he was unwilling to do earlier.

But it was then he realized Nora Parker was not a tempest – she was a hurricane; a radiated hurricane who’d tricked him into thinking the skies were clear while the calm was above him, only to draw him out of his hiding spot and straight into the eyewall where the strongest of the cyclone was at. She shoved him back a couple steps and swiped her hand across his face again, this time on the left side, which allowed him to feel the sharp stinging sensation on his skin. 

“Do you actually think a whispered apology and soft kisses make up for what you did?” she scoffed. “Not only did you do all that possessive and jealous bullshit, but you came inside me,” she started counting on her fingers, beginning with her thumb, “You made _Danse_ watch when he clearly didn’t want to, and you _hurt me_. None of that was okay.”

Unlike the man he was always assumed to be, Arthur stood there and took it, sky blue eyes staring into her darker blue ones. He would accept everything she dished out because, in the end, he knew she was right.

But she was done – the hurricane had passed, and Nora stepped away from him, moving to the door. Whether it was for now or for good, she’d left up to him.

“Figure out what you want from me, Arthur — just sex or something more. And when you do, let me know. Because I can’t keep doing this with you.”

And in that moment, as she walked out the door, Arthur realized Nora had not barged her way into his chess match, scattered the pieces on the floor, and set fire to the board. No, instead, she’d carefully replaced his queen with herself, convincing the ignorant Elder to harbor and protect her while she made herself at home on his turf, replacing the curtains and bed sheets that smelled of past lovers as she hung up new pictures in a home she made her own. And he’d let her without even realizing it. Now, she was standing on the porch with her bags packed full of his pawns and bishops and pictures and the warm comforter she’d brought to his bed, waving for a taxi to take her away.

He was alone.


	22. Danse's Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse felt ashamed and dirty, like someone had wonderglued his eyes open and strapped him to a chair while he was forced to watch a deeply private moment that wasn’t meant for him. But he couldn’t get her out of his head – he just couldn’t. And he didn’t understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very long chapter, so strap in!
> 
> CW: This chapter contains non-consensual voyeurism.

Proctor Quinlan was talkative, which typically meant escaping conversation with him was a difficult task; he constantly droned on about how he needed technical documents and assistance with escorting scribes and _’oh, if you find this very specific and very rare edition of a Grognak the Barbarian comic, could you please drop everything you’re doing and bring it to me immediately?’_

It was… frustrating.

Danse wasn’t normally impatient – unless it came to Knight Parker and how she always pronounced ‘Prydwen’ incorrectly, which he’d learned after numerous attempts to correct her that she did, in fact, know how to pronounce it – but he just could not wait to get away from the proctor. The thought of a lukewarm shower relaxing his aching muscles and cleaning the sweat that’d caked onto his skin was calling to him, urging him to just leave; but he was far too polite and much too respectful to just walk away even when Quinlan’s back was turned, no matter how badly he wanted to. So, he stood there and listened, shifting from one foot to the other as the proctor went on and on and on until Danse wanted to pull his own hair out.

But the very moment there was silence due to the scribe noticing the blinking light on his terminal that signified a new message on the internal mail system, which he then promptly went to read, Danse made his escape. He left the logs on the desk beside Emmett, gave the feline a pat on the head, and fled the scene. He then dropped his power armor off in the bay, giving it one last disappointing lookover – he’d clean it and fix it up tomorrow – before retrieving some clean clothes from his quarters and making a bloatfly-line straight for the showers.

But the paladin hadn’t realized Nora entered the showers before him – really, he’d assumed she would have used the one in Arthur’s room since they were, ah, fairly close. He knew they were sleeping together; hell, Ingram and Kells knew they were sleeping together now, or at least suspected it. And with Danse’s room right next door, he’d seen her slip in and out plenty of times whether the Elder was in there or not, and he’d certainly _heard_ them in there together enough times, too.

That was the worst part: hearing them have sex. Nora was, by no means, a quiet woman when she was being pleasured – that much was clear – and Danse would be surprised if the entire ship wasn’t aware of her and the Elder’s escapades just from that fact alone; but Arthur was known to take people to bed with him for longer than one night stands, so the concept of him and Nora wasn’t exactly unusual. 

However, what _was_ unusual was how the Elder was beginning to allow whatever he and Nora had between them to leave the bedroom, and Danse could see it happening. He’d known Arthur’s past subs, and it didn’t matter if he was bedding men or women because their sex life always stayed behind closed doors; it never interfered with Arthur’s work and he always remained professional.

Until Nora.

When Danse, Ingram, and Kells walked into the observation deck to find Arthur and Nora… well, close – intimate, even – that said loud and clear that something was different. Arthur never seemed capable of having emotional connections with other people, and he’d even confided that piece of information in Danse in the past; that meant if one of his subs ever desired more from him than just sex, the Elder cut it off immediately. Which was why finding them so close – especially in a spot where anyone could have seen them, and three people were expected to report – was so strange.

It was such an intimate moment that told the paladin something was different – something was different with _her._ And it also said Arthur knew just as well as him that Nora was special, because if she was able to bring even the emotionally-lacking Arthur Maxson to his knees, there was no telling what she’d be able to do to Danse.

But he had an idea what she could do when his eyes landed on her as soon as he walked into the showers. She was not where he anticipated she’d be, but instead she’d decided to shower in the room where the rest of the soldiers bathed. No one else was there except her – and now him – and he felt his face grow hot and bright red as he watched water slide down her prewar body in broken streams before reuniting on the tiled floor. She turned, likely at the sound of the door, and her own face flushed as they locked eyes; she then shifted her body so her side was facing him, her arms raising to cover herself – one over her chest and the other her stomach – while her leg raised just slightly to hide what was between her thighs.

Immediately, Danse diverted his gaze, dropping his eyes to the floor out of respect though the image of her nude body was burned into his mind. She had thick thighs that he imagined nestling his hips between, and he wanted to slide his hands up her rounded buttocks and cup her breasts against his palms while he kissed her and worshipped her body. He wanted her to know she was incredible – she _deserved_ to know she was incredible – and he’d almost told her so in the Glowing Sea, but he was too much of a coward; plus, her relationship with Arthur – whatever kind of relationship it was – meant she was off limits. And that was a line Danse was not about to cross, no matter how tempting.

“Would you like me to come back later?” he asked, his face burning red as his eyes tried to stay on the floor. He couldn’t risk looking at her and he was worried that even if he blinked, he’d see her form behind his eyelids.

“What? No, of course not. You need a shower more than I do. I’d be sentencing everyone out there to death by smell if I made you wait any longer.”

It wasn’t often Danse understood her sense of humor considering she made prewar references he was unfamiliar with or inappropriate jokes he didn’t quite realize she wasn’t being serious about, but that was a joke he understood – and even if it _wasn’t_ a joke at all, she was still correct. He needed a shower, _badly;_ and while he was hesitant to be in the showers with her, especially alone and especially with both of them naked, he was still glad she didn’t mind his presence.

The paladin gave a brief nod of his head before setting his stuff down on one of the benches, then stripped his jumpsuit off. He’d never been shy of his body – hell, being around a bunch of soldiers he had to be naked in front of in order to shower would have erased any amount of shyness he’d have felt in the past – but knowing Nora was there and that she was the _only_ one in the room made him nervous. What if he looked weird to her? She was from a different time where food was plenty and people could have more fat and less muscle, so what if his postwar body wasn’t what she preferred? Granted, she enjoyed Arthur, but the two men didn’t exactly look alike; they both had chest and belly hair, but Danse was slightly taller with a much thinner waist while Arthur was fairly bulkier. And while the paladin had never had any complaints before, he’d never been looked at by _Nora_.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He was quick to utilize the shower furthest from her, feeling much more comfortable with the most amount of distance between them. The lukewarm water falling on his head and streaming down his body felt incredible, however, and after going a week stuck in his power armor without being able to properly clean himself, he could almost _moan_ from the feeling.

He ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back so it wasn’t in his face anymore, but just as he turned around to let the water run down his shoulders and back, he opened his eyes to be met with another gaze across the room.

Nora was staring.

But she wasn’t staring at his _face._

Danse flushed again – or had his face never _un_ flushed? – as he froze, and the moment she realized he’d turned around was when her gaze lifted and they made eye contact, then a panicked look spread across her features before she quickly turned away from him. The vaultie pressed her forehead against the wall and began thumping it on the tile as if she were punishing herself for looking at him, or at least for getting caught doing it. The thumps weren’t hard, but she was seriously going to hurt herself if she didn’t stop.

“Parker,” he called, and he could have sworn she winced at the sound of his voice.

But she kept lightly hitting her forehead against the tile and it was making him worry even more; it was almost as if she was trying to make a new hole in the tile. He had to stop her – she’d give herself a concussion if she kept it up, and he _really_ did not want to explain to Cade or Arthur exactly _how_ Knight Parker got a concussion in the showers when it was only the two of them in there. That was not a conversation Danse was willing to have.

_Well, Knight-Captain Cade, she got the concussion from repeatedly bashing her head against the wall. Why, you ask? Because I caught her looking at my ass and she was embarrassed. No, Elder Maxson, I did not encourage it. No, I did not encourage her to hit her head against the wall, either._

Slowly and cautiously, Danse approached her, trying not to make too much noise so as not to startle her while his wet feet padded across the floor. Nora didn’t seem to notice at first, or maybe she was just trying to ignore him, but either way, he was determined to stop her from doing serious damage to herself. As she pulled her head back from the wall, the paladin reached a hand out and slipped it between them to act as a barrier, allowing her forehead to hit his palm instead of the tile. It caught her off guard.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said softly, trying to show he cared about her wellbeing. But he knew it was more than that – Nora was special, and he wasn’t the only one to see it.

“I’m okay,” she replied through gritted teeth. Was she annoyed at him for caring? He hoped she didn’t expect him to let her continue hitting her head against the wall – he’d seen soldiers do things like that before with the intention of causing serious self-harm; and while he didn’t think that was what she was doing, he didn’t want to risk the possibility of an injury by letting her continue.

Danse brought his free hand to her shoulder, gently nudging her to turn to face him, and then the hand that was on her forehead dropped to cup her jaw. Nora stared up at him, her blue eyes as wide as a radstag doe’s while he brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone affectionately.

God, he wanted to kiss her; he wanted to pull her tightly against his chest and kiss the tomorrow out of her. She was so much shorter than him – he towered over her five-feet two-inches with his six-feet five-inch height, so he’d have to hunch over and she’d have to stand on her tiptoes just so their lips could meet. But as much as his height could have intimidated her, and as much as his muscled frame could have made her fear what he might do, especially since they were both naked and alone, she never showed she was intimidated or fearful. Instead, her doe eyes were caused by a sort of nervousness.

The paladin had to regain control and stop himself from leaning down to press his lips to hers, and that was a significant urge to overcome. “Please don’t hurt yourself,” he whispered as his thumb brushed over her cheekbone one more time. But he needed to put distance between them – he needed to get away from her, because if he didn’t, he knew he’d try to make a move; and while Arthur’s reaction to that with any of his previous subs from the past might not have been extreme jealousy or possessiveness, Danse wasn’t sure if that was the case when it came to Nora. And he _especially_ had no idea how Nora would react, herself.

And that was too great a risk.

He pulled away from her, though hesitantly, before starting back toward his shower with the plan to turn the water freezing cold just to rid himself of whatever feelings – specifically the one of arousal – he’d just felt coiling in his gut. He heard the beginning of a word escape her, however, and he almost turned around and went back, but the sound of the door opening made him reconsider; and then the sight of who walked in made him glad he’d resisted.

“Arthur,” Danse greeted the Elder as he came in and began stripping his clothes off. He’d seen Arthur naked plenty of times – when they went on missions together and had to change clothes in close quarters; when Arthur had just become Elder and was drinking to cope with the stress, but one night had passed out and vomited all over himself, which left Danse with the job of cleaning him up at a time when the young leader was going through a commando phase before he realized the importance of underwear; and even after Arthur was injured in the field and Danse had to dig a bullet out of his upper thigh to stop the bleeding.

“Danse,” the Elder replied. It didn’t surprise him Arthur came, not with how different his relationship with Nora was compared to his past subs.

The men nodded to one another before Danse turned away and back to his shower, ducking his head beneath the stream of water and wishing it would clog his ears or blow out his eardrums so he wouldn’t have to hear what might happen next. There were mumbles that came from across the room after the Elder had wrapped his arms around the Nora, though Danse was thankful he couldn’t hear what was being said as they went back and forth. However, when the vaultie made a loud gasp, that was his exit cue. The paladin shut off the shower and immediately went to his clothes to redress and escape.

At least, until he heard his rank.

“Paladin,” Arthur called, and Danse almost winced as he wished he’d have just run out of the room naked so he could have avoided it.

“… Yes, Elder Maxson?”

“Were you done showering?” With the way Arthur behaved around Nora, Danse knew the question wasn’t a good sign.

“I—” he paused, trying to think of what to say; but Danse was never a good liar, “It’s quite alright, I can come back later.”

“Yes or no, Danse?”

It was then he tensed his jaw and closed his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Cade had scolded him many times before about grinding his teeth together since he was getting headaches, saying it was the reason he was getting them and it was only going to make them worse, but Arthur was making him want to grind them down until there was nothing left except bone powder. “… No.”

“Then I suggest you finish showering,” he said, and Danse was hoping Arthur would follow it up with how they were leaving or wouldn’t be doing anything; but he knew that was far too good to be true. “But do me a favor and lock the door.”

Danse’s breath caught in his throat and at that point, he knew what was coming. His jaw tensed yet again despite how it ground his teeth together before he walked over to the door, clicked the lock, and padded back to the same shower he was using before. He turned it back on and ducked his head directly under the stream again, letting it engulf him with the hopes he would drown in it or he would melt and wash away into the drain.

But he didn’t, and the sounds that already started coming from Nora – gasps and muffled moans – rattled in his brain. She’d tried to tell him he didn’t have to stay, but Arthur made her cry out by biting her shoulder before she could even say half of the sentence. He pulled his head from beneath the water, slicking his wet hair back like before as he took in a shaky breath; he shifted forward a bit, resting his forearm horizontally against the wall and pressing his forehead against it, wishing he could just phase through the tile like some characters did in certain comic books Quinlan made him look out for that he _definitely_ did not read.

Maybe if he just tried to think of other things.

“I’m… fuck you… going to scream… understand?”

The sound of the shower water hitting the floor was enough to muffle most of what Arthur said, his tone far too low, but some words still slipped through. But either Nora didn’t reply, or her own voice was too low for him to hear because there was silence for a few moments – until she screamed. And it wasn’t a good scream, either.

Danse bristled at the sound, the hair on the back of his neck raising as if it weren’t wet; he immediately whipped around, eyes wide and adrenaline pumping as he was ready to intervene and pummel the hell out of Arthur for doing something Nora didn’t want him to do. The paladin’s hands were clenched and his face was as red as a tato, and he almost started charging over there without even thinking about it just to break it up with the assumption Arthur was… well, forcing himself on her – but when his eyes landed on Nora, it was a much different picture. And it didn’t make any sense.

Nora had her back against the wall, legs wrapped around Arthur’s hips while he placed gentle kisses to her throat; and if Danse didn’t know any better and hadn’t just heard Nora _scream in pain_ a few seconds ago, he’d think it was an intimate moment between the two that he was intruding on. But he knew better.

Nora nodded her head just slightly in response to a question Danse didn’t hear, and the couple remained still and locked together for a long while before her hips rolled a few times, followed by Arthur thrusting. It started off slow but was quick to pick up speed – and it was just… all wrong. He started off far too rough and then slowed it down, only to go back to rough. Maybe she enjoyed the pain, and that was fine because she could certainly have it, but she didn’t need to be hurt like _that_. Nora deserved better; she deserved to be cherished and worshipped, and Arthur clearly wasn’t giving it to her.

But after Arthur’s thrusts picked up speed and the sounds of their hips slapping together was echoing off the tiled walls, Nora finally opened her eyes and immediately looked over to him. Danse felt his face grow hot again as they stared at one another; his cock had grown hard already, and though he did nothing to hide it, he wasn’t proud – it wasn’t like he could control the way his body reacted, anyway. He wanted to leave, to get away from them and hide in his quarters for the rest of the night, or even the rest of the week. This wasn’t something he wanted to see – but as Nora stared at Danse and Danse stared at Nora, even while Arthur was the one between her legs making her moan, the paladin just couldn’t convince himself to look away.

And he hated himself for it.

Arthur shifted his hold on her, hooking the back of her knee against the crook of his elbow and pulling her leg up, which must have hit a sensitive spot because Nora’s eyes grew wide and her mouth opened as she gasped, then let out a silent scream.

And even though she didn’t scream right away, the words she said almost made the paladin want to cum right then and there.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh, god, I’m gonna—”

“Fuck, yes. Cum around my cock,” Arthur growled, and she obeyed. Her nails clawed at his back as she came, a scream escaping her throat – one that sounded much different than the last time – as she trembled. Danse clenched and unclenched his hands into fists as he tried to contain himself, keeping eye contact with Nora, though his cock was _pulsing_ almost _painfully_ ; and the more noises she made the more he either wanted to escape or wanted to be the one between her legs instead.

“What… say, pet?” Arthur’s voice was low again, but Nora’s response was anything but that.

“Thank you, sir! Thank you – _fuck_ – thank you, sir! _thankyousirthankyousirthankyousir_!”

It was followed by the Elder groaning words Danse didn’t hear as his hips snapped harder against Nora’s and then he just… stilled. Danse’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted in shock as he realized Arthur came inside her.

What was he _thinking_!? Was he really trying to risk both their futures? Nora had a son she was still searching for and Danse was _certain_ she didn’t need the added stress of a second pregnancy when she barely even got past the first; and Arthur was expected to marry and sire an heir with his _wife_ , and _only_ his wife. As far as Danse knew, they hadn’t married, so risking this was an absolutely irresponsible idea.

Unless they’d come to some agreement where she would give him an heir? But surely Danse would have heard about it. Maybe he would ask later. Or try to forget it ever happened.

“Thank you, sir,” Nora said again, and Danse felt a coiling in his stomach.

“For what?”

“Making me cum.”

“And?” Nora bit her lower lip and shook her head, only to whine after having a bite placed on her neck. “Thank me for claiming you, Nora.”

She hesitated but her eyes remained on the paladin, looking at him through eyelashes on half-lidded eyes. He saw her tongue dart out to wet her lower lip as Arthur kissed at her throat, and Danse almost broke eye contact with her, but he pulled through it despite how much his cock was _aching_ and _pulsing_.

“Good girl,” he heard Arthur praise, and it was only then did their eye contact finally break – but she was the one to break it first as Arthur set her down on her feet. Nora then dropped to her knees, taking the Elder’s softening cock into her mouth and sucking. Danse finally looked away, brows furrowed as he lowered his eyes to the ground and clenched his hands into fists again. 

And soon after, Arthur had dressed and left, and Nora remained on the ground on her knees. He wasn’t sure if she looked at him because he couldn’t bring himself to look at her – not because she disgusted him, but because he had no idea what to do or say. Part of him wanted to make sure she was alright since she had screamed in pain before, but another part of him wanted to just get the hell away from her as quickly as possible. All of this was so uncomfortable and messed up and _wrong_ and he just needed to escape

It wasn’t her fault, not really. But he needed to get away from her regardless before he said or did something stupid like pulled her into his arms and comforted her or told her how beautiful she was despite the fact his best friend’s dick was just buried balls deep in her pussy.

And so Danse did the most tactically advantageous thing he could think of right then – and the action wasn’t something he did often: he fled. He kept his eyes anywhere except her while he threw his clothes on without even drying off and nearly ran from the showers to his quarters, locking the door and barricading himself in as he was nearly hyperventilating. The paladin placed his back against the metal barrier and closed his eyes while he tried to calm his breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. But questions raced through his mind, one after another, nonstop.

Did all of that really happen? Why did he listen to Arthur when he was told to stay? Why did he get an erection when that was such an uncomfortable situation? Why had she stared at him the entire time?

Danse felt ashamed and dirty, like someone had wonderglued his eyes open and strapped him to a chair while he was forced to watch a deeply private moment that wasn’t meant for him. But he couldn’t get her out of his head – he just couldn’t. And he didn’t understand why.

With a heavy sigh, the paladin ran a hand through his wet hair – he hadn’t even bothered drying off, so his jumpsuit had wet spots all over it from the water that was on his skin when he put it on. He wasn’t sure he could face either of them again, or at least not for a while, though he knew he’d have to. He’d likely pretend it didn’t happen but that really wouldn’t make it any easier than if he’d acknowledged it. And if he knew Nora, she wouldn’t pretend, either.

Pushing himself off the door, Danse moved over to the bed, plopping down onto it on his back and throwing his arm over his eyes so his face rested in the crook of his elbow. There was a familiar throbbing in his head that he knew meant the beginning of a migraine – no doubt from the stress of the situation and how often he’d grind his teeth and tensed his jaw – but he was hesitant to seek out Cade because it meant he’d have to leave the room and risk the possibility of running into Arthur or Nora, even though Cade’s office was literally right next door.

But he still couldn’t get her out of his head.

_”Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh, god, I’m gonna—“_

His jumpsuit was still tight in the groin and he hated himself more and more with every passing second for his body reacting the way it did.

_”Thank you, sir!”_

All he wanted to do was stop thinking about her; he’d even be happy just going to sleep so long as she just left his thoughts. So long as she just left him alone. 

_”Thank you – fuck – thank you, sir!”_

But every time he tried to think of something else, his mind went straight back to Nora; the sound of her gasps and moans, the way she thrusted the column of her throat out, the curve of her ass, how much smaller she was than him.

_“thankyousirthankyousirthankyousir!”_

Danse shifted in his bed, bending one knee by planting his foot flat against the mattress to try to take some of the pressure of his jumpsuit off his erection. He wouldn’t touch himself – not to that; not to what he’d witnessed. She may have kept eye contact with him through almost the entire thing, and she may have given him plenty of memories to think about later but what happened in the showers was _improper_ and _inappropriate_. No, if he was to think about Nora, he’d think about what _he’d_ do to her – not what Arthur did to her; because Danse would treat her the way she deserved.

He’d be slow with her at first – gentle kisses to her lips and throat, his callused hands just barely brushing her sides and arms over her clothes; he wouldn’t undress her for a while because he’d savor how she felt trembling beneath him, too prideful to ask for more right away. And only when he knew she was growing far too impatient would he slowly – agonizingly slowly – begin to take her clothes off. Piece by piece, he’d strip her, kissing every area that was bared to him as it was exposed.

She’d be a panting, moaning, whimpering mess by the time he had her completely undressed and he wouldn’t have even touched her between the legs.

He’d make sure she wanted him more than anything else – she’d _beg_ for him before he actually touched her, and she’d beg on her own volition, because he wouldn’t need to tell her to do it. She’d beg for each touch of his fingers, lips, tongue, cock - _please, Danse, please touch me; I’m aching for you_ \- she’d grow so impatient with how slow he was taking it that by the time he even gave her what she wanted, she’d be ready to cum almost immediately.

And Nora would cum plenty of times before he used anything but his fingers and mouth – he’d make sure of that. Danse would take his time teasing her pussy by sucking on her clit gently and flicking it with his tongue, slowly sliding one finger in and out of her but never giving her any more until she begged for it - _put another finger in, baby_. Because if she begged, it meant she wanted it bad; and nothing was sexier to him than a sexual partner who begged on their own terms.

But Nora never had patience, and so she’d ask him to take her - _I want you in me so bad, Danse, please fuck me, I can’t wait anymore_ \- and he’d give her what she wanted, having already stretched her out enough that sinking into her with one fluid motion would only cause her to feel a small, pleasant burn. He’d still give her time to adjust because any pain she’d experience during their time together wouldn’t be from the stretch – it’d be from bites and nips and scratches and hair pulling and whatever else she wanted from him.

Danse would keep teasing her – making slow, shallow movements until she was squirming and gasping beneath him, nails digging into his shoulder blades and scratching down, and at other times scratching through the hair on his chest. She’d beg him for more – _faster, Danse, please_ – and more – _please, baby, fuck me harder_ – and only when she asked for it would he give her what she wanted. But because it was Nora, she’d keep asking for more, begging for more, and he’d do his damndest to give her everything she wanted so she’d feel sated and fulfilled.

And just as she was a talker in everyday life, it only made sense she was a talker between the sheets, too. She’d tell him when she was close – _fuck, Danse, I’m gonna cum; oh, god, I’m gonna cum_ – and beg him to keep going – _please don’t stop, baby_. She’d complimented his voice on multiple occasions, so he’d talk to her in that low tone she liked, telling her how beautiful she was – _god, Nora, you’re so damn beautiful_ – and how amazing she felt – _you feel so good wrapped around me_. Even when pounding into her from behind while she was bent over his workbench, one hand gripping her hair and the other digging into her hip, he’d whisper sweet words to her, making sure she knew how incredible she was.

What he saw in the showers wasn’t all of it, though – that wasn’t completely Nora, and he knew that. She wouldn’t fully submit to him like she did Arthur because that wasn’t a game he normally played. Instead, they’d wrestle back and forth on who had more control, but he’d let her win as often as she wanted. She’d end up on top, straddling him, her hands gripping his thighs as she leaned back while riding him, grinding against his groin as she thrusted her chest out - _oh, fuck, Danse, I’m gonna cum again_ \- and sought after her own release. 

But the best part was that she’d moan his name each time he made her cum – the single-syllable word exiting her throat in a breathy sigh as she—

Danse groaned as his hips thrusted upward into his hand – when did he even undo his jumpsuit and start touching himself? – one last time before he came, the thick white strands of cum spurting onto his belly. He was panting, one arm still strung over his eyes as the throbbing in his head had calmed down just slightly. He kept his cock in his hand as he went soft, though the self-hatred for even thinking about Nora like that, let alone touching himself because of it - _especially_ after what he had to witness - still remained.

It wasn’t long after he calmed his breathing before the sound of a nearby door being shoved open caught his attention, the metal creaking and slamming back against a wall, then immediately being followed by a growled _’Arthur.’_ Danse quickly sat up, grabbing the towel he’d taken to the showers with him but managed to never use and wiping his cum off his stomach before putting his jumpsuit back together. He recognized Nora’s voice and he recognized the anger in it – plus, he doubted there were many people aboard the Prydwen who had the guts to barge into the Elder’s room and growl his name at him.

But then came the slap – a brief, sharp noise of skin-on-skin that made Danse’s breath hitch in his throat. He wondered who hit who, because he partially thought Nora was one to just start swinging punches rather than swiping palms, but when she yelled at Arthur, he knew it was her who’d struck rather than the other way around.

_”What the fuck is wrong with you!?”_

A soft _click_ told him Arthur’s door was closed again and their voices were muffled more than before. He tried not to listen, he really did, but he was also _forced_ to listen in the showers so maybe it was only fair game here. But Danse could only make out some things, and it was only when Nora was yelling that he could hear anything at all; but as far as he could tell, Arthur wasn’t even replying.

Things quieted down, however, and Danse’s stomach turned when he thought that perhaps they’d made up and might just start having sex – so he’d have to listen to them _again_. While they were loud, as always. Right next to his quarters. But there was another slap – more muffled than the first, but still obvious what it was – and Nora’s voice was raised again before he heard her voice clearer than before.

_”Figure out what you want from me, Arthur: just sex or something more. And when you do, let me know. Because I can’t keep doing this with you.”_

The paladin released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Knowing Arthur, he’d truly screwed up the good thing he had with Nora because he didn’t realize it actually _was_ a good thing. Of course, being Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel was an honorable rank and one the young man should be proud of, but Nora was offering herself to him and he was squandering it. Why?

He must not have understood how incredible she was and couldn’t reciprocate those feelings. But as much as Arthur was his best friend, and as much as Danse respected him as the Elder, he knew Nora Parker deserved much better. She deserved the world, and Danse would give it to her if he could.

He ran his hand down his face, scratching short nails at the stubble around his chin; he really had no idea what he was going to do or how he was going to get through this nightmare. Things would be awkward from now on, he knew that. And damn Arthur for making it that way.

The knock on his door made him bristle. When most people knocked, it was hard and loud – but this time it was quiet and he could almost see those callus-free knuckles rapping on the metal as she stood outside his door with damp hair and puffy eyes, waiting for him to answer. He tried to regain himself, running a hand through his hair one more time before pushing himself to stand, ensuring his jumpsuit was completely put together – because _that_ would be an embarrassing situation. Once he was sure he was situated, the paladin walked to the door and slowly opened it. And there she stood, just as expected – her blue eyes slightly darker than normal, bloodshot, and puffy; her cheeks flushed, and she looked… hopeless.

Helpless.

He couldn’t speak but he also couldn’t leave her out there. A few initiates, scribes, and knights had gathered near the ladder, whispering and glancing over in his and Nora’s direction, having listened to her get away with slapping and screaming at the Elder and then immediately going to Danse’s quarters. There would undoubtedly be rumors, but who was he to deny her comfort in her time of need? He certainly never denied it to Haylen when he held her while she cried, but then again, it never went beyond that and Danse never felt anything for the scribe, either.

So, he stepped back, giving her room to enter as he shot a glare to the soldiers standing around, barking a quick _’get back to work!’_ at them and making sure they scattered before shutting the door to give themselves privacy. He didn’t lock it, though – he wasn’t about to give her that impression, especially not after what he had to watch.

Nora stood in the middle of his room, her back to him and her breathing labored. He could hear her picking at something, and by the slight movements of the muscles in her arms, he guessed it she was picking at her nails or something else on her fingers. She was being self-destructive today and that wasn’t good.

“Parker.” His voice was quiet though he didn’t move away from the door, and she didn’t turn around, either, which worried him. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he tried to resist the urge. “Parker,” he called again, but she still ignored him. Did she even hear him? Perhaps she was elsewhere, like he wanted to be when Arthur made him stay in the showers.

Danse gave in to his worries and finally allowed his legs to move him toward her, approaching her from behind; he stayed within reaching distance of her but not too close. “Parker, look at me,” he ordered, though it wasn’t a true demand – more of a plead.

And that was when she did look at him, turning to face him with a furrowed brow and eyes filled with regret and shame. He knew that look well – and if he could see himself, he knew he’d have it in his own eyes, too. Did she see it?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he just barely heard her. But he didn’t need to hear what she said – he knew she was sorry, and _he_ knew it wasn’t her fault. And maybe it wasn’t Arthur’s fault, either.

Maybe it was his own.

Danse could have left; he knew Arthur couldn’t have actually held it against him, at least not officially, anyway. And he also knew the Elder wouldn’t have physically forced him to stay, which was why it was never an actual order. While what he did in the showers was childish and impulsive and representative of a man who was struggling with understanding emotions he should have learned to deal with as a child, Arthur still had some amount of control over his life whether he realized it or not – because the sentence _’then I suggest you finish showering’_ was not a command nor an order, it was a _suggestion_. And Danse had worked with Arthur Maxson long enough to know the difference.

He could have left – but he stayed. That was his decision. And because of his choice to stay while Arthur and Nora had sex not even 50 feet away from him, this incredible prewar vault dweller who stood in front of him was upset.

It was his fault. His.

Danse’s fault.

The paladin shook his head, eyebrows crinkling just slightly. “No.” The word was gentle, just whispered; but it was firm enough to confuse her as she stared up at him.

“No?” she asked.

“No.”

“… What do you mean?”

“It’s not your fault.”

She didn’t understand, that was clear, because her eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for something – an answer to why she didn’t need to apologize, why he wouldn’t accept it when she did, why it wasn’t her fault. But as much as Danse knew he blamed himself for things that weren’t actually his fault – Cutler’s death, for example – he knew Nora did the same. She did, after all, blame herself for her husband’s death and her son’s kidnapping, at least to some degree.

But the vaultie’s face scrunched up, creases he’d only seen one time before making their second appearance as tears welled in her eyes and Danse… wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know if he should. 

Yet she didn’t give him any choice when she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his midsection, burying her face in his chest. He was startled and his arms raised momentarily as he mentally debated on what to do – did he hold her? Did he tell her to let go? Did he just let her do her thing without reacting? Did he pat her on the back awkwardly with hopes that was enough? – but when she just bawled against him, when she clung to him without any thought of letting go, he finally wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his chest. One hand went to her hair, fingers stroking through its dampness, while the other went to rub up and down her back.

Danse was not great with people, and he certainly wasn’t great with Nora, but he’d try his hardest if it’d help her at all.

“I’m so sorry, Danse. He’s such an asshole,” she mumbled against his sternum. Danse made a small grunt in agreement, closing his eyes as he savored the feeling of her breathing against him. Her face was on his chest, her ear near his heart, and he wondered if she was counting the beats as he was counting her breaths. “Please forgive me,” she added, but there was nothing to forgive; he couldn’t be mad at her, not even if he tried.

“No,” he said, and it was only a second too late he realized that wasn’t the best way to start his answer when she took a sharp inhale and tensed against him, “You are not at fault, Parker. There is nothing to forgive.”

“I don’t understand him.”

“Not many do.”

“He acts like he doesn’t care about me one minute and then he’s doing all this possessive stuff the next and I just…” she sniffled and followed it up with a sigh. “This is an emotional roller coaster. I don’t have the capacity to deal with it all.”

Danse allowed his fingers to continue stroking through her hair gently in an attempt to comfort her, and the way she nuzzled her face into his sternum told him it was working. But only then was he glad he’d masturbated before she came into the room because it was such an intimate action that he couldn’t get enough of and wanted more. 

“Do you remember what I told you in the Glowing Sea?” he asked.

“You mean when you said you’d get on your knees for me?”

“Wait, no, I—” he began, trying to correct her, though he knew there was nothing to correct.

“You’re not very subtle, Danse.” The vault dweller turned her head up to him, eyes meeting his again; there was that humorous look in her face like usual, and it was a look he’d come to recognize as common and used as a mask for many things.

“Parker—” he tried again, ready to protest her accusations, though he wasn’t even sure where to start.

But he didn’t get anything other than her name out before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss; and he couldn’t convince himself to do anything but return it. The moment her lips touched his, it felt like his veins were set on fire, like she’d injected him with fifteen med-x syringes at the same time in each vein within his body, and he just wanted to _burst_.

The kiss, however, was brief, and when she pulled away, he almost followed after her. He kept his eyes closed for a second longer than he should have because if he opened them, it meant the moment would truly be over; but when he finally did open them, his chocolate gaze met her royal blue one and she had a small smile plastered upon her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and it sent a chill up his spine.

“For what?”

“Being you.”

Danse reached a hand up to cup her jaw, just as he had earlier, and ran a callused thumb over her cheekbone. “Knight Nora Parker, you have no idea just how special you are.”

Her smile broadened in response and she turned her face into his hand, her eyes momentarily closing. “You’re a good man, Danse,” she said, and he felt a smile tug at his lips, though it only lasted for a moment. “And you’re going to make someone very happy one day.”

It was like a shot to his gut; like she’d taken a shishkebab with a jagged edge and drove it deep into his stomach, twisted it, and then pulled it out – only to repeat the process over and over again. But that was fine – she could keep doing it so long as she stuck around. He didn’t mind.

He tipped her head up again before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers once more, pulling her into another kiss. It was held longer this time and one of her hands had found purchase in his hair while the other on the side of his neck. And after the kiss broke, they were just slightly breathless as their foreheads rested together, eyes closed. Danse had no intention of taking it any further, especially after… well.

But Nora shook her head, and something in her voice had changed. “I should go. I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled away from him. He tried to pull her back, but she slipped away like air between his fingers; he was grasping for her like she didn’t even exist.

“Nora, wait.”

“I’m sorry, Danse,” she said quickly before she reached the door. But she didn’t open it yet, instead keeping her back to him as she spoke. “I’m truly sorry for all of this. None of that should have happened and I will make sure Arthur understands how wrong it was. But… I meant what I said – you’re a good man and you’ll make someone very happy one day. It just…” she paused, and Danse felt his chest sink a little, “It just can’t be me. I’m sorry.”

Nora left quicker than she arrived, and he wanted nothing but for her to come back, for her to say she was joking and that he just didn’t understand her strange sense of humor. But he knew this was not a joke, and that her sense of humor would not be so cruel; and as the metal door to his quarters shut, the image of her leaving haunted him.

He was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things.
> 
> First, thanks for sticking through these past three chapters. They were increasingly long (Danse’s went over 8k words!) since I covered the shower scene from each character’s POV and then furthered the story a bit more at the end. I know the shower scene was uncomfortable, especially because Danse is basically a puppy (who could hurt a puppy? me, that’s fucking who) but the point was for it to make you uncomfortable while _also_ providing a very graphic sexual scene that could cause arousal. So please know that if you felt uncomfortable during that scene, that was the goal; and if you somehow got something out of the sex part of it, that was also the goal. I _wanted_ you to feel uncomfortable in Nora’s chapter so I could reel you back in with Arthur’s and Danse’s. And hopefully, you felt the anxiety and lust in Nora’s chapter; the jealousy and regret in Arthur’s; and the self-blame and shame in Danse’s. All of these were very important feelings and my goal was to write them well enough that you could relate to them all and empathize with the characters. 
> 
> Second, I want to say that Danse is a fairy complex character (especially in the later part of the game, for obvious reasons), so if you feel like I am not doing him justice in how I write for him, please let me know. That’s one of my worries!
> 
> Finally, there is still a lot more ahead for Nora, so if you’ve made it this far, just know I’m very glad and I greatly appreciate your support. I love seeing comments, even if they’re just small ones about how you liked the chapter, but I also love constructive criticism so never hesitate to tell me how you think I can improve on something!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you stick around for more!


	23. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each scar from each battle fought and won plagued him at night to where he consumed an inordinate amount of liquor in an attempt to bribe sleep into blessing him with its grace. And even still, his dreams were always haunted; when he was finally able to drift off, he’d consistently wake up drenched in sweat and hyperventilating and panicked. 
> 
> But that changed with Nora.

Nora had requisitioned his quarters as her own, practically moving in with him without the Elder even realizing it. She left items scattered around his room – a gold flip lighter he never once saw her use was strategically placed on his desk beside his box of cigars; a bottle of wonderglue sat on the table beside the seat she’d claimed as hers, where she’d once sat down for nearly thirty minutes with the adhesive bottle to fix something on her pip-boy; and a candle that smelled of something she described as pumpkin with a box of matches were set in the middle of his nightstand next to his bed. All of these items – and more, undoubtedly – gave away that she had made herself at home, and yet he hadn’t even noticed.

Or maybe it was that he didn’t _want_ to notice.

Every time she was on the Prydwen, she lounged in his room, used his shower, slept in his bed, and fucked him – without fail. But after their fight where she’d yelled at him and struck him twice due to his impulsive and territorial actions, she hadn’t come to bed nor to the room and so the young Elder slept alone. 

The bed was cold and empty without her and Arthur found himself sprawled out in the middle of it, like one of those starfish he’d once seen in a prewar book as a child; one leg hung off the bed at the knee while the other was bent and pressed against the wall, and his arms were outstretched in the same manner.

Ever since childhood, a time when he was treated as a soldier rather than a young boy, he’d been plagued by nightmares of past trauma he’d endured. They were reminders of the people he’d lost and let down - of Sarah and Amelia and his mother - and the beasts and creatures who left his body mangled and marred with scars as constant reminders of their very existence, past or present.

The thick, curved scar that began just beneath his right eye and extended under his beard was a gift from a deathclaw mother that nearly stole his eye, let alone his life, at the age of thirteen. It had, however, successfully taken the lives of his entire squad – all people who were very capable soldiers and deserved to live much more than he did – before he was able to make the final blow and strike the beast down. But his scar told others of a battle hard fought and won – _you fought and killed a deathclaw all on your own at thirteen!?_ – while it told nothing of the deaths of five people. It spoke of the hastily-done stitches that made their own scarred lines across the original, showing a panicked boy who had to do whatever he needed to keep his face from falling apart even through the damaged nerves that left him with a lopsided smile.

And then there were the three other scars on his face – the one that ran through his right eyebrow, the one directly above his left eyebrow, and another on his left cheek – all from the super mutant Shephard, a beast that had formed a formidable army of its brethren after the Brotherhood-Enclave War ended. A fifteen-year-old Arthur Maxson had led an army to take out the leading mutant and claimed victory, and the three marks on his face sung of that claim.

But those were only the scars on his face and didn’t even begin to match the ones that littered his body; lines drawn down and across his back, one even curving around to his right hip. Thin, pink strips peaked out from beneath his chest hair while three bullet holes colored salmon pink with mangled and puckered skin were scattered – one on his shoulder, one on his hip, and the final on his upper thigh that was far too close to his groin.

His body was marred from his past exploits in the field and he did it no good by having a punishing fitness regime throughout his teenage years just to keep his mind clear, nor by allowing wounds from rough sex to heal on their own, like the scratches that riddled his upper back and shoulders – he hadn’t even went to see Cade – that were now closed with nature’s bandage. They wouldn’t scar, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they did, because what was another mark to his body when he had enough for the entire Brotherhood? 

Each scar from each battle fought and won plagued him at night to where he consumed an inordinate amount of liquor in an attempt to bribe sleep into blessing him with its grace. And even still, his dreams were always haunted; when he was finally able to drift off, he’d consistently wake up drenched in sweat and hyperventilating and panicked. 

But that changed with Nora.

The first night Arthur went without his past ghosts visiting him was when he’d walked into his room to find the vault dweller in his bed, naked, sleeping peacefully while curled up in his covers. She’d made herself at home and part of it irritated him because he knew that meant she was getting comfortable and making their time together personal, but he hadn’t the heart to kick her out, so instead, he’d laid behind her and curled his body around her back. His arms wrapped around her – one beneath her neck and crossed over her chest, the other draped over her stomach – and held her tightly to his chest in an almost protective fashion. It was only then did he find it easy to drift off, and it was only that night did the horrors of his past not plague him.

But Nora hadn’t come to him tonight, and so he slept alone. What was worse, however, was the fact she was present on the ship and yet his bed was still cold and empty. There were times he wanted to seek her out and order her to his quarters, just to spank her out of punishment for not showing up when he needed her—

No, he didn’t need her. When he _craved_ her, because that’s all this was.

And yet, he didn’t seek her out, and she still didn’t show.

It must have been punishment for what he’d done; leaving him alone with his own thoughts, forced to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, counting each screw and bolt he could see from the distance – there were 25 directly above his bed – while he silently begged for sleep to take him. The only explanation was punishment. And while the thought didn’t necessarily enrage him, per se, it did frustrate him to no end. After regretting his actions and apologizing – something he rarely did and yet he did it for _her_ – she still left him lying there, cold and alone. It was…

What? Unfair? No, that wasn’t right. What he did to her was unfair; what he did to _Danse_ was unfair. But it was late, and he couldn’t deal with that now.

So, Arthur fought with sleep, sprawled out on his bed and staring at the ceiling, knowing if he closed his eyes and attempted that the nightmares would come and make him experience the horrors of war and childhood trauma all over again. He tried to ease his mind with other things, like new chess strategies and books he’d read in the past – political titles such as _Das Kapital_ and _Animal Farm_ , and even works by Jack London and others, which many of them were strange yet interesting reads – but neither of those categories helped. Hell, he even tried masturbating with the assumption a release might work, but even as his hand stroked up and down his cock while his mind tried to stay away from the thought of the woman who’d entered his life however long ago, he couldn’t even keep himself hard – let alone make himself cum – something he chalked up to being due to the stress of his job and nothing more.

And by the time he finally found himself dozing off, the alarm clock, which was set beside the candle that smelled of pumpkin and reminded him of _her_ , said it was 0300.

Dreams did haunt him, though they were not of what he expected; where he usually saw people or creatures of his past – Sarah or Shephard or Amelia or the damned mother deathclaw that gifted him a scar on his face – they were not present tonight. Instead, he was given a more proper dream, like an out-of-body experience as he watched a scene from afar.

He could see Nora on his bed, her naked body straddling someone beneath her; the blanket – he recognized the mattress, sheets, and blanket as his own – was pulled up to just beneath her ass, covering a pair of legs and feet beneath the cover.

It was strange to see her having sex with him from an outside angle, and especially when he couldn’t even see his own face because her body was in the way, but it was still… erotic. And he welcomed it, nonetheless.

The Elder approached though his feet made no sound, and instead it felt like he floated through the darkness that surrounded everything, including the bed and Nora’s body even though it seemed like they were beneath bright lights. She was leaned back with her hands placed on his thighs, head tipped enough to where she could see him if she’d opened her eyes. A silent moan was let out while her red hair – which only fell on one side of her face and was shaved on the other – was disheveled as if someone had just been holding a fistful of it moments before. And Nora’s body was moving, rocking back and forth, grinding against the body beneath her as she sought her release.

Even as Arthur grew closer – still watching from behind – he could tell she was close; her legs always trembled when she was about to cum, an involuntary movement he used to his benefit when delaying and denying her release as well as edging her to make it more intense when he finally did allow her to cum.

Fingers slid up her sides though he didn’t focus on them – he was focused on her face, the way her eyebrows furrowed when she was so close yet hadn’t tipped over the edge yet; how she nibbled on her bottom lip to quiet herself sometimes even though it always became too much and she had to let go. And he could never get enough of how she sounded when she came; she always screamed his name and the sound of the breathed word from her throat always had him shuddering. Not many called him Arthur, but she was one, and she used it without fail.

The scene before him was silent though he knew Nora was anything but. She always moaned loudly; she keened when he fucked her slowly and she screamed when he fucked her roughly, and she especially screamed when he hit that bundle of nerves inside her over and over again. Right now, he could see her lips parted as she was moaning despite nothing coming out.

At least, that was the case until she announced she was close to her orgasm.

_”Oh, god, Danse. I’m so close.”_

Arthur felt his chest tighten and his jaw tense as he tipped his head up, a rage that was seated deep in his belly beginning to bubble. 

He was closer now, just at the foot of the bed, and he circled around to the side, finally seeing the face of his friend – his _best_ friend, his _only_ friend – lying beneath Nora, cock buried between her legs as she ground herself down on him, even though this was the woman Arthur longed to have in his arms in his bed – _his_ bed, where they were now together, fucking, dirtying the sheets with their betrayal while they rolled around on the shards of his broken trust.

Danse stared up at her with wide, brown eyes that were filled with lust – or was it love; some emotion Arthur couldn’t recognize, let alone feel? The paladin’s lips were parted as one of his hands slid up to Nora’s chest, taking a breast in his large hand – larger than Arthur’s – and still not even being able to hold it all, though he seemed determined to try.

Arthur clasped his hands behind his back, standing at parade rest while he put his walls up and let a scowl dress his face. The sound faded in then, but it was only of their words and moans and nothing else. Nora wasn’t as loud here as she was with Arthur, and her movements weren’t fast or eager or frantic, but instead were slow as she took her time grinding against the paladin beneath her, savoring their time together.

 _”Fuck, Danse, I’m coming,”_ she moaned as she rocked her hips a bit harder. Danse’s hand went between her thighs, his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles to help her ride her orgasm out, making her shudder until she jerked away from him and leaned forward. Their lips met – a gentle, loving action, and something Arthur had to look away from.

He wanted to wake up; he didn’t want to watch this. This moment was private and personal, and he was intruding upon it and – oh.

This was his way of punishing himself.

When he finally looked back, they’d moved so Danse was atop her, his hips slotted between her legs, lips still locked together. One of her hands had its fingers threaded into his chest hair, the other doing the same with the hair on the back of his head. The thrusts were slow at first, but eventually picked up speed; and soon, the paladin was sitting back on his haunches, pounding into her while his hands were on her hips.

_”You are so beautiful, Nora.”_

Arthur cringed at the sentence and he thought Nora would recoil, but instead she grinned up at him before biting her lower lip and tipping her head back.

_”Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop, baby.”_

That word – _’baby’_ – was a pet name she’d never used with Arthur; he’d told her to call him _‘Sir’_ in the bedroom and she obeyed that rule, but she’d never even tried to use some other affectionate pet name for him that was used between couples. Then again, they weren’t a couple.

 _”Nora,”_ Danse moaned, his thrusts faltering as his hand stroked her thigh, _”I’m so close.”_

_”Cum in me, Danse.”_

Nora’s moans grew louder, and it was only moments before—

Arthur’s back bowed as cum spurted onto his bare stomach, a gasp escaping his throat just as he was suddenly forced awake. Sweat covered his body and his fingers were curled tightly around the edges of the mattress, gripping.

It seemed that not only was Nora taking over his daily life, but she was now haunting his dreams. A succubus, she was; and he couldn’t help but long for her warm body against his own to help him sleep in peace.


	24. Mail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was getting old.
> 
> It was barely even 1500 and Arthur had already gone through three cigars because of the stress of the day and had run to two different offices only to find out the messages weren’t for him or were incorrect. Thus far, the two places he’d walked to had been close to his quarters, but it was still frustrating. He hadn’t slept in two days and he was _exhausted_ and trying to finish going through the damn reports that were stacked on his desk, so his irritability was through the roof.
> 
> He was bound to explode if things kept at the pace they were.

Three nights.

For three nights, Arthur slept alone despite Nora being on the Prydwen – she chose not to come to him, and he was much too prideful to seek her out. He figured she’d needed some space, and so he gave her that; but when she still hadn’t come to him by the third night – which was the _second_ night he hadn’t slept at all – he knew things were worse than he’d initially thought. 

The night they’d fought, his usual nightmares had not haunted him – instead, he’d dreamt of her and Danse fucking in his bed, dirtying the sheets with their secrets, only to wake up coming on his belly despite not even being able to keep himself hard mere hours before. The second and third nights, however, Arthur just lied awake, sprawled out, staring at the ceiling as the flame of the candle – the candle that smelled of pumpkin and reminded him of _her_ – danced its shadows across the walls like a puppet show.

Each time he looked at the clock, he was reminded of the woman who would not come to his bed and how utterly alone he was – how completely empty his chest felt despite the deep, aching throb within it. It was an uncomfortable feeling and one he wished would go away.

0200 rolled around and Arthur still found himself staring at the ceiling.

Then came 0300 and 0400 and the flame from the candle was dimmer than before, but he had yet to drift off to sleep.

And by the time 0500 and then, finally, 0600 arrived, there was no longer any chance of sleeping, so he knew it was time to start the day.

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail Terminal Maxson MX-001E**

**Fr: Proctor Quinlan QN-448PR  
To: Elder Maxson MX-001E**

**Please see me in my office as soon as you are able. I have some significant findings that I believe you would be interested in seeing.**

Proctor Quinlan was a talkative man, though what he enjoyed talking about was not something Arthur could say he was fond of; it was usually about comic books or the needed changes to the Codex or how he needed Arthur to ask Nora to sit down with the scribe again so he could get more information about what Boston was like before the war. Needless to say, the Elder often found he did not look forward to engaging with the lead scribe, but even the vague promise of ‘significant findings’ was enticing enough for him to pay a visit.

As he entered the doorway to Quinlan’s office, he found the proctor and two scribes huddled around his desk, their backs to the doorway, none having seen nor heard him approach. All three were staring down at something and one of the scribes even gasped before mumbling _’remarkable!’_ under their breath.

Arthur cleared his throat.

Quinlan nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around with Emmett cradled in his arms like an infant, wide eyes staring out from behind circular glasses; he was clearly surprised to see the Elder standing there. The man must be getting old if he’d forgotten he sent a message. “El-elder! What a pleasant surprise!”

A scarred eyebrow cocked up. “Show me what you’ve found, Proctor. I don’t have much time.”

Quinlan’s brow furrowed slightly, and he looked over to one of the scribes, then the other; it was then Arthur noticed both scribes – a boy and a girl in their early twenties – were twins. He’d known they were siblings but hadn’t realized just how similar they looked until now. And their faces were tato red from either embarrassment or fear or nervousness as they absolutely _refused_ to look anywhere except the ground.

“Ah,” the proctor began, turning back to Arthur. “If you insist.” Stepping to the side, he allowed the Elder to see what was sitting on the desk. Arthur imagined the ‘significant finding’ had to do with the Institute or even the Railroad, perhaps some piece of information from any of those technical documents Quinlan was always collecting had provided them with good intel on their enemies. Hell, he’d even take something on the Minutemen because Nora wasn’t exactly upfront and forthcoming about everything going on there, and it was safer to have as much information on everyone as possible than not have enough when it was needed most.

But when his eyes landed on what the three _adults_ were excited about, he pursed his lips.

On the desk sat a Grognak the Barbarian comic in pristine condition and still within the original plastic packaging it had been sealed in centuries ago when first made. While that may have impressed the proctor and two scribes, it certainly did _not_ impress Arthur. 

“Proctor,” he said, pulling his shoulders back and slowly returning his gaze to Quinlan. The older man was still cradling his cat like it was a baby, though he seemed to be holding it tighter against his chest now, almost protectively – and the feline didn’t give a damn. “Is this the ‘significant findings’ you mentioned?”

The question, however, seemed to confuse the older man because his eyebrows furrowed. “I… ah, mentioned? Sir?”

Arthur was growing impatient. “Yes. I received a message on my terminal from you requesting I come to your office because you had significant findings.”

It was then Quinlan’s mouth opened as he looked to the two young scribes – both shaking their heads as if they were saying they had no idea what Arthur was talking about. The proctor then snapped his jaw closed and turned to his terminal, tapping a few keys and reading what was on his screen before standing up straight. His face was a deeper red than before. “I, ah… I apologize, Elder. I meant to only send that to the two scribes, not you.”

Sky blue eyes closed as Arthur sighed in frustration, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Please ensure it does not happen again, Proctor Quinlan.”

He needed a cigar.

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail Terminal Mason MX-001E**

**Fr: Knight-Captain Cade CD-440KC  
To: Elder Maxson MX-001E**

**Knight Parker has been brought to the medical bay. Please come as soon as you are able.**

It was only 1000 and Arthur felt his chest tighten, a sharp pain going through it. Although it didn’t seem urgent or an emergency – because Cade certainly would have sought him out or actually said it was urgent in the message if it was – Arthur still couldn’t help but feel panic run deep in his veins. He was exhausted and ready to fall asleep despite how the day was already getting out of hand, but none of that stopped him from rushing out of his room and down the hall, straight into the medical bay.

However, when he stepped inside, breathing ragged from the panic, he wasn’t greeted by the face of Knight Nora Parker – instead, he was greeted by the face of a boy who looked nothing like her; really, the only similar feature they even shared was the splash of freckles across their noses and cheeks, but Nora had some on her forehead and chin, as well. 

But where was Nora? And where was Cade?

As Arthur stepped into the medbay, the boy – maybe seventeen or so – sat up straight and saluted. “Sir!”

“At ease,” the Elder said gently. “Where is Knight-Captain Cade?”

“I’m not sure, sir. He said he would be right back.”

This was suspicious, really. First Quinlan, now Cade? But at least Quinlan’s message was accidentally sent to him – what did this teenager have to do with any of it? Wait... “You’re Knight Parker, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir!” he replied, beaming at the fact the Elder actually remembered his name – he didn’t, but Arthur would let him think so, regardless. It was difficult and unrealistic to remember everyone’s names; he was much better with faces, anyway. “Knight Jason Parker, sir!”

“Mm.” Arthur nodded his head and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly irritated. Jason seemed to deflate, however, as if he had done something wrong – likely assuming the irritation and hostile stance was directed at him. The Elder didn’t correct that, either. “Why are you in the medbay, Knight Parker?”

Jason sat up straight again. “I was having chest pains, sir.”

Well, that certainly sounded familiar – Arthur had been having those for a while now. “And did Knight-Captain Cade figure out why?”

There was a slight hesitation, but the knight nodded after a second. “Yes. He said it was… uh, anxiety. I was having bad anxiety in the field.”

“I see.” The Elder’s eyebrows furrowed as he studied the young knight in front of him. He’d been having chest pains lately but never chalked it up to anything other than stress – perhaps he needed to see Cade about it, too. “Very well,” he added, finally uncrossing his arms. “I hope you feel better soon, soldier. Get some rest.” 

It seemed either both Cade and Quinlan had forgotten how to use the internal mail system or the system itself was malfunctioning. Neither of those scenarios were good.

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail terminal Maxson MX-001E**

**Fr: Proctor Teagan TG-447PR  
To: Elder Maxson MX-001E**

**We’ve had a problem with our food counts lately. Come see me in my cage when you get a chance.**

This was getting old.

It was barely even 1500 and Arthur had already gone through three cigars because of the stress of the day and had run to two different offices only to find out the messages weren’t for him or were incorrect. Thus far, the two places he’d walked to had been close to his quarters, but it was still frustrating. He hadn’t slept in two days and he was _exhausted_ and trying to finish going through the damn reports that were stacked on his desk, so his irritability was through the roof.

He was bound to explode if things kept at the pace they were.

But with the intention of just getting it over with, he sought out Teagan in the back of the ship. Walking past the medical bay and Quinlan’s office, Arthur only made it halfway through the mess hall before his eyes landed on familiar red hair – hair he’d held in his fist so many times while he’d fucked its owner – then drifted down to see a freckled nose and cheeks. Two royal blue eyes were looking at her companion across the table, someone she’d been with for the past three days – Danse.

Danse, who she’d been spending nearly all her time with even though it made Arthur jealous. Danse, who he’d watched her fucking in his dreams. Danse, who was _forced_ to _watch_ as Arthur fucked Nora in the showers. Danse, his _best friend_ , who he was trying to compete with for the affection of a woman he knew he couldn’t – and shouldn’t, _didn’t deserve to_ – have.

And still, Arthur stood in the middle of the mess, gawking at her like she was some prewar pinup and him a teenage virgin. She took notice of him staring soon enough, her eyes shifting over to look at him, locking with his gaze for a moment before the smile that had been stretched across her face when she was speaking to Danse just… disappeared. She didn’t glare at him, but she just looked sad. Disappointed. She whispered something before the paladin glanced over at Arthur – then immediately averted his gaze while they stood up and left.

Arthur felt that same feeling in his chest; he was aching, and it was getting hard to _breathe_. She wouldn’t even _look_ at him when she walked away! Did she hate him now? Did she despise him? Did he _disgust_ her? After everything he’d done, after all the hurt he’d caused her, after how he’d treated her and even his _best fucking friend_ , he could not blame her if she felt those things about him.

He’d fucked up whatever it was they had and that was the closest thing to good and stable and _happy_ he’d ever been. Now, he just ached.

Three initiates sitting at a different table stared up at him, eyes wide and confused as to why he’d stopped walking right beside their table and was just staring off elsewhere; but he nodded to them before forcing himself to continue walking. He had to find Teagan and continue his workday – he could keep his mind off her that way.

But when he approached the cage where the quartermaster usually was, he found it was empty.

This was getting ridiculous.

“Proctor Teagan?” he called, but no one answered. Arthur raised a hand to his face again, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose once more. Why would someone just send a message and then leave? It made no sense. What was happening with his officers today?

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail Terminal Maxson MX-001E**

**Fr: Proctor Ingram IG-444PR  
To: Elder Maxson MX-001E**

**There is a piece of your power armor missing. Please come see me immediately.**

By 1800, Arthur was ready to throw his terminal into the wall, and yet he still found himself stomping over to the damned power armor bay to find out what Ingram was talking about. He hadn’t used his power armor in months since there was no need to – so how would something be missing from it? No one else should be using it – that suit was reserved for him and him only. And yet, here he was, looking for Proctor Ingram to find out if his suit had actually been tampered with or if this was yet another issue in the mail system. 

But as he entered the power armor bay, he saw that familiar red hair once again – flopped over on one side while shaved on the other. Nora was sitting on Danse’s workbench as the paladin was knelt down in front of his power armor; her legs were hiked up on his back, using him as a foot stool, and he didn’t even seem to mind since he kept working away. The vault dweller was chatting about something and Danse was nodding his head in agreement – at least until her eyes raised to meet Arthur’s.

The smile he longed to see every morning when he woke with her in his arms faded once again as she locked eyes with him, and instead that sad, almost disappointed look washed over her face; his chest _ached_ again, worse than it ever had before. She leaned over and said something to Danse that was too quiet for Arthur to hear before the paladin looked up to her and gave her a wide smile and a nod. She returned the smile, removed her legs from his back, and hopped off the workbench, walking straight toward Arthur – did Danse really just turn and look at her ass? – and he almost thought she was coming to talk to him. He felt his heart rate increase at the idea of kissing her and holding her in his arms and finally _sleeping_ without the fear of demons haunting him through the night.

But she walked right past him.

The Elder opened his mouth just slightly, eyebrows furrowed as he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes even caught Danse’s for a moment before the paladin returned to working on his armor, and that familiar feeling deep in his stomach began bubbling like it had the night he’d made far too many mistakes. But he took a deep breath, grasping at the last bit of self-control he had before he turned to find Ingram.

She was the only one to smile today when she saw him.

“Elder,” Ingram greeted.

“Proctor. I received a message from you?”

But there it was – a slight twitch of her eyebrows that showed confusion, revealing she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Arthur had to rein in the anger that was boiling in his blood. This was getting fucking outrageous.

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail Terminal Maxson MX-001E**

**Fr: Elder Maxson MX-001E  
To: Elder Maxson MX-001E**

**Forecastle.**

At 1900, Arthur’s terminal blipped with yet another message, and the urge to throw it off the flight deck was even stronger than before. But he opened it, knowing his duties required him to have a terminal – but this message was different from the others. It was to him and from… himself? Yet, he’d never sent it. In fact, he’d been in his room sitting at his desk when he received it. 

And the message itself only read “Forecastle.”

If it wasn’t clear before, it was definitely clear now that someone actually _was_ messing with the internal mail system, and maybe even with him, though he wasn’t sure who. This was certainly something Nora would do, but she wouldn’t even look at him for longer than a second, let alone spend hours plotting ways to make him travel around the ship, sending messages to his terminal from other terminals. Would she?

Maybe it was an initiate or squire. Or maybe it was even a trap.

He had to know, either way.

When he found himself standing just inside the door leading to the forecastle, he was hesitant to open it despite the laser pistol that was at his hip. There were guards all around the Prydwen, so it was unlikely it was a trap, but the anxiety he felt because of it was still strong. But he braved the storm and opened the door, walking out to be greeted by the darkening sky – blues and purples and pinks on one side of the ship fading into a dark indigo on the other.

His eyes settled on the lone figure that stood at the edge of the forecastle, back to him, leaned forward against the railing.


	25. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was right; the very thought of someone even touching something that was his – even just his power armor, which he rarely ever used – was… aggravating. Enraging, even. He was never allowed to own things when he grew up because attachments meant something could be used against him, and if something could be used against him that meant weakness; but that set of power armor was _his_ and _his alone_. He was finally able to own something he didn’t have to share with others.
> 
> And then there was the fact he felt that same feeling when it came to Nora, but it was ten times stronger.

When Arthur found himself standing just inside the door leading to the forecastle, he was hesitant to open it despite the laser pistol that was at his hip. There were guards all around the Prydwen, so it was highly unlikely he was walking into a trap, but the anxiety he felt at the mere possibility was still strong. But he braved the storm and opened the bulkhead, walking out to be greeted by the darkening sky – blues and purples and pinks on one side of the ship fading into a dark indigo on the other.

His eyes settled on the lone figure that stood at the edge of the forecastle, back to him, leaned forward against the railing.

Nora.

She didn’t bother to turn around despite the loud creak and clang of the door shutting. Had she been behind this the entire time? She was angry with him, that much was clear – she hadn’t come to bed for three nights and he hadn’t slept for two – but why would she go through all this trouble? Why would she toy with him this way, especially when she refused to even look at him any other time?

The Elder approached her from behind; he had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to his chest – to feel the heat of her body against his own and finally be warmed by it after craving her presence for the past three nights. He wanted to drag her back to his room, strip her down, and take her to bed. Not to fuck her, but to hold her tightly against his chest while he wrapped himself around her back so he could finally sleep in peace.

But he didn’t, because he knew that would be yet another mistake on his part.

Instead, he moved beside her, just barely brushing their arms together as he did before he leaned against the railing, as well. They stood silently for some time, watching as the sun continued to set in the west over the ocean, darkening the sky with each passing moment. The Commonwealth was dying down for the night, readying for sleep and god, how he wished he could join it. 

When the silence was broken, however, Nora was the first to speak – and she knew exactly where and how hard to strike so it was like a switchblade in his stomach leaving yet another scar that would haunt his dreams later on.

Perhaps he’d inadvertently taught her the efficiency of killing a man by stabbing him in the kidneys, just as Sarah Lyons had taught him so long ago.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said. Her voice was quiet.

“I know.”

“Do you, though?”

“Yes, I do,” he confirmed, “I haven’t slept in two days, Nora. I know.”

Moments ago, her face had been expressionless as she stared out over the horizon, but concern washed over her features with his words instead and she looked over to him with a frown upon her lips that he longed to kiss. She studied him; he could only imagine how exhausted he looked with dark circles around his eyes and his face much too tired to even scowl anymore. But she quickly wiped the concern away and turned her attention back out to the sea, looking expressionless once again.

“Why go through all the trouble of sending so many messages just for me to end up here at the end of the day?” he asked, “And how did you even do it? You don’t know how to hack. I’ve seen you try to hack my terminal numerous times and you have no idea what you’re doing.”

She pursed her lips, but it only lasted a second. “I have friends who help me out when I ask, you know.” The words were mumbled as if he’d struck a nerve with doubting her abilities – or her allies, it seemed. “But you’re the brilliant tactician, Arthur. _You_ tell _me_ why I would make these moves.”

The Elder sighed and turned so his back was leaned against the railing, arms crossed over his chest. It was such a vulnerable position to stand in – the railing only reaching up to his ass so all she had to do was surprise him with a rough shove and he’d be sent over the edge of it to his death. But he trusted her – and that trust was hard won.

“Well,” he began, his eyes looking over to her even though she refused to look back. He tried to parse through everything she’d had him do throughout the day. “You sent me to Quinlan with the promise of ‘something significant’ when it was just a comic book. So, you drew me in with something I thought would be imperative to our fight against the Institute only for it to be unimportant to me but important to someone else.”

“Good. And what does that mean?”

“You feel I am… what? Not taking you seriously?”

“Bingo. Next?”

Arthur raised one hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger yet again – a common move today as his frustration continued to grow. “Nora, I don’t have time to play these games. I have reports to sign off—”

But that was the wrong thing to say. The vault dweller spun on him quickly, eyes burning with fury. “And I don’t have time for your childish games when I have a son to look for, but I’ve been playing them anyway. So, you’re going to sit the fuck down and finish.”

It was then he pushed himself off the railing and stood to his full height, turning to face her and towering over her smaller frame by an entire foot; they glared at one another, but he had no desire to match the fire behind her irises. Nora may have willingly given him her control during sex and submitted, but any other time? She held her ground. And he respected her for that, no matter how goddamn frustrating it was.

It was times like this Nora Parker revealed she was fire and brimstone, raining down the wrath of a god Arthur didn’t believe in and demanding he repent for his misdeeds and all the pain he caused her else he be forced into eternal damnation. 

And yet, she fit into the curve of his body perfectly and offered her future to him so willingly despite everything he’d done and everything he was.

“Next, Arthur,” she ordered through gritted teeth.

“Cade,” he answered, though he never moved away from looming over her and she never backed down; it was almost as if he was trying to intimidate her despite that never being a possibility of happening. And he knew that. But his chest was close to her and he wondered if she could hear his racing heart. “Knight Jason Parker was in the medical bay.”

“For?”

“Chest pains.”

“Go on.”

“Cade said it was anxiety.”

“And why, dear Elder, would I make that play?”

Arthur searched her eyes for a few seconds, his own flicking back and forth between them. Before, he’d always searched for the vision of a prewar Boston – cars and trains and undamaged buildings where people lived happily and free despite the wars that raged on and ravaged countries, threatening to obliterate the entire world. Now? Hell, he didn’t even know what he was looking for. Himself, maybe. “Because the moment I read the message about a Knight Parker being in the medical bay, I felt a pain in my chest. And I have felt that pain every time I’ve seen you since…”

Nora nodded her head and her body seemed to relax, becoming less defiant despite how she remained standing straight up in front of him. It helped him relax in return. “Good. And the third?”

“Teagan. Something wrong with food counts.”

“Keep going.”

“… You were demonstrating how important the Brotherhood is to me because we’ve been dealing with food shortages for a while.”

“Good,” she praised, and it was only then he realized she was using his own tactics against him. He’d spoken to her this way the night he spanked her for fighting with Teagan; he’d made her explain the problem while praising her for each answer. Clever girl. “And the final one?”

“Ingram.”

“Yes. What about her?”

“My power armor, but… I don’t understand that one,” he admitted.

She brought a hand up to her face, the tip of her index finger tapping the tip of her nose. “What did you feel when you thought someone was messing with it?” she asked.

He thought it over, flicking his gaze between her eyes again. What had he felt? A familiar bubbling deep in his gut – the same feeling he’d had when she returned from the Glowing Sea not too long ago.

Ah.

“Possessiveness,” he answered almost shamefully. 

“Yes. Because?”

“Because it was _my_ power armor.”

“Very good.”

She was right; the very thought of someone even touching something that was his – even just his power armor, which he rarely ever used – was… aggravating. Enraging, even. He was never allowed to own things when he grew up because attachments meant something could be used against him, and if something could be used against him that meant weakness; but that set of power armor was _his_ and _his alone_. He was finally able to own something he didn’t have to share with others.

And then there was the fact he felt that same feeling when it came to Nora, but it was ten times stronger.

“I wanted you to see how frustrating it was to be dragged along with uncertainty about what was happening, where you were going, and what the end goal was. You had no power over what happened today; I did. But with everything else – with me, with _us_ – you’re the one who decides. I don’t get a say in how we end up and that’s very frustrating and unfair. All I’m able to do is offer myself in more ways than one and hope you accept one of them.”

Arthur’s eyes lowered to the metal beneath his feet as he let her words sink in. She was right, per usual.

“You’ve been stringing me along, going back and forth between wanting me to yourself and not wanting to make us official,” she added with a sigh. Her head turned so she could look out over the water, though her body remained facing him. “It is absolutely frustrating to not know whether you truly care for me.”

It was his turn to sigh. “Yes, I heard the log.”

_”Why do you think he doesn’t care?”_

_”Because he keeps pushing me away.”_

_”I see.”_

_”I don’t know what to do.”_

_”I honestly don’t know what to tell you, Nora. Arthur is a complex man and being with him is an even more complex situation. He has been this way since I’ve known him because people have treated him a specific way his entire life and he built himself around that. I don’t know if he can return your feelings. I am unsure if he’s capable.”_

_”Oh.”_

_“But what I do know is you are a beautiful woman who could have any man in the world on their knees in a heartbeat. Just because Arthur can’t feel the way you want him to feel doesn’t mean there aren’t others who can.”_

Nora’s face turned a bit red. “Ah.” She must have forgotten about it, just like she forgot to turn the recorder off when she finished logging that night. “And?”

Arthur ran a hand through his beard, brushing it out with his fingers. It might be time for a trim. “Perhaps Danse is correct,” he said quietly. Her lips parted just slightly as she returned her eyes to him, surprise on her face. He knew he was going to hurt her, but he also knew he _had_ to hurt her – there was no other way. “You could have any man you wanted, Nora. Even Danse – he’s clearly interested in you and, quite frankly, I am unsure why you haven’t chosen to pursue him. He would be good to you and you deserve someone good.”

“That’s not your decision, Arthur.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, “But it is my opinion, and I hope you take it into consideration when planning your next moves.” Her jaw visibly tensed, and she turned her eyes back to the water. The sun was hidden now but the sky still held some purples and blues at the horizon. “I told you I couldn’t give you emotional support or a relationship or any of that.”

“And I told you I was fine with that.”

“Are you, though?” he asked. Her gaze once again turned back to him as her lips parted just slightly and her eyebrows furrowed; she looked as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. But she knew – there was no doubt about that. “You have feelings for me, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Would you go so far as to say you love me?”

But the vault dweller before him didn’t answer right away and instead seemed to search his face for something. He felt his chest tighten, that familiar ache throbbing deep within once again. Anxiety, was it? Well, hello, anxiety. _It looks like we’re going to be friends_ , he thought.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said after a moment, shaking her head.

“Then you should know _now_ that if it ever comes to the point where you _do_ love me, that’s not something I can return.”

“Arthur—”

“No, Nora. Listen.” The Elder sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. This woman frustrated him to no end and yet he still found himself wanting to be delicate with his words so as not to hurt her too greatly; but there was no easy way to let her down – to build a wall between them and keep padding it with more and more bricks until she finally lost all hope and desire to be with him romantically. All he could offer her was sex. “I don’t feel things like you and Danse do. It’s not just that I can’t express myself, it’s that I don’t really _feel_ anything to express. I don’t feel happy or sad; the last true emotion I remember feeling was when I was a child. I’ve never felt love for another person and I never will because I can’t form those connections. I have…” he paused, eyebrows furrowing, “I have tried to explain this to you the best I can, but I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t feel things the way you do. I can’t.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Perhaps letting her down easy was not the way to go.

“Well, you should. You aren’t the first person to discover what I am, and you won’t be the last.”

Nora seemed taken aback by that – good. He needed to push her away; she was getting too close, too comfortable, and feeling too strongly for him. He should have cut it off long ago. Then again, he should have never let it start, because he knew from the beginning how susceptible she was to wanting more from him.

“There are more obstacles than just my lack of emotions and they’re all laid out right here,” he gestured to the Prydwen, “On the ship. Do you actually want to be with me, Nora?”

“I—” she paused then and furrowed her eyebrows. He was hurting her, that was clear; and as much as it pained him to be doing it, he had to push her away. He had to – for her benefit and his. “Yes.”

“Then we must marry. Do you think you can spend the rest of your life with me, knowing I can’t return those feelings you crave – those feelings you _need?_ Can you truly deal with not having an emotional connection with your husband?”

“I—”

“Do you think you can marry me so soon after your previous husband – Nate, was it? – died?”

Her face was filled with horror and agony, as if he’d stabbed her in the chest and twisted the knife and was now watching her slowly bleed out all over his boots while doing nothing to help stop the bleeding. How could he when he was the one who caused it? 

“Arthur, please—”

“We’ll have to return to the Citadel in the Capital Wasteland, so any ties you have in the Commonwealth must be cut, including your position as General of the Minutemen.” He began moving toward her then – slow steps that she immediately began stepping back from. Was that fear in her eyes? Or just horror at what he was doing and saying? “And don’t think I haven’t heard about some of the _things_ you run around with. You won’t be able to see them again. Are you prepared to leave them behind?”

“Just—”

“And we’ll need to have children. I’m the last of the Maxson line, so the Council expects heirs brought into the world. They’ll likely expect at least three and they’ll want us to conceive immediately.”

“I—”

“Our children will be enlisted as squires as soon as they turn ten and then initiates when they turn sixteen. Do you want our children – _your children_ – to be in the military at such a young age with the chance of turning out like me?”

“Please, Arthur—”

“And furthermore, are you sure you’re ready to marry and have children so soon after the death of your husband and the loss of your—”

Her hand struck him hard across the left cheek, her palm hitting flat against his skin and her nails dragging against his flesh at the end of it – scratching his face open. He stopped walking at that point and kept his head turned and eyes closed for a moment, blood beginning to seep to the surface of the thin wounds as he let the sting sink in. It was familiar and, strangely enough, comforting. But by the time he opened his eyes and returned his gaze to her, she had her hand over her mouth and her own eyes were wide, tears having dripped over the bottom lips. She looked shocked at her own actions.

But she shouldn’t be – he surely wasn’t. He’d egged her on with harsh words and intimidation, baiting her to hit him until she finally followed the lure like a cat going for a piece of softshell mirelurk meat and gave him what he wanted: some sort of feeling. Even if it hurt her more to give it than it did for him to receive it.

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered from behind her hand; he just barely heard her. 

“There is a reason they call me a monster, Nora.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Then you know it must be done. The only thing being with me promises you is that I will hurt you.”

Nora’s breathing was ragged, and Arthur knew she was holding back the floodgates. He didn’t want to see her cry because the urge to comfort her was too strong and it was something he’d never felt before she came into his life. Plenty of men and women, subs and soldiers alike, had cried in front of him – they’d bawled their eyes out for one reason or another – and he’d never reacted or felt any amount of sympathy nor empathy or the urge to want to comfort them. Instead, he’d told them to suck it up and get on with their day. But with Nora? He wanted to hold her and comfort her and apologize for everything he’d said and done. 

But it was already too late.

“Then say it,” she said, “Tell me what you want from me.”

Arthur went quiet, his body turning to face the sea again as his fingers wrapped around the metal railing, knuckles turning white. The sky was completely dark now, the only light coming from the ship, stars, and waxing crescent moon above. He knew what he wanted: he wanted her – he wanted _Nora_. He wanted her in his life every single day; he wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up seeing those royal blue eyes peering up at him with that sleepy, pearly white smile. He wanted to fuck her every night and hear her scream his name so it bounced off the walls and everyone knew he was making her cum. He wanted to ignore how she was slowly putting more and more stuff in his room and making it _their_ room. He wanted to marry her and have children with her that had her freckles and his strong jaw.

But he also wanted her to be happy, and she could not be that with him. Arthur couldn’t give her all the perks of a normal relationship – he didn’t know how to make her happy. He didn’t even know how to make _himself_ happy. Maybe it just wasn’t possible. Regardless, it was better to hurt her now than to let her get attached and hurt her worse later on.

But then again, she’d already gotten completely attached, hadn’t she?

“Just sex,” he answered quietly. His tone lacked the confidence it once had because he didn’t even believe in his answer – and judging by how he could see her visibly wince at the two words from the corner of his eye, he knew she didn’t believe in it, either. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Okay,” she replied after a moment, her voice just as quiet as his had been even though it just slightly cracked. “Then you need to rein it in. No more jealousy or possessive bullshit over what I do or when someone looks at me. I don’t have the time or energy to take care of another child, so you need to start acting like an adult. I can keep my feelings under control, but you need to learn how to do the same.”

The urge to tell her he didn’t _have_ any feelings was on the tip of his tongue, but he thought better of it. Instead, they stood there quietly, letting the conversation die down as it mulled over in their heads.

And then, “Will you come to bed tonight?” he asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper. He just wanted to sleep, and he couldn’t do that without her. It didn’t have to involve feelings, he didn’t think – but maybe he was wrong.

She scoffed at him and he almost winced at the sound. “You are un-fucking-believable, Arthur.” And without even giving him an answer – or was that his answer? – she left him there on the forecastle, slamming the bulkhead door shut behind her.

Standing there silently, his eyes peered out over the expanse of ocean while a few drops of blood slid down his cheeks and disappeared beneath his facial hair. He hadn’t felt the urge to jump in a long time until now.


	26. Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not Arthur?”
> 
> It was a fair question, but it still hurt. She looked away from him and shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly. “I mean, he’s a great kisser, sure, but I’unno if I’d say he was the _best_ I’ve ever had. Sex? Yeah, absolutely. The man’s a beast in bed. But kissing? Still gets beat by… uh…” Nora furrowed her eyebrows. “… Whatever his name was.” Her hand waved the words away in the air as she turned her eyes back to him, a grin having reappeared across her lips. “Why? Was Arthur a good kisser in your experience?”

Nora needed liquor and she needed it _now_. It didn’t matter what kind – whiskey, rum, bourbon, whatever; all she knew was she needed to drink as much as possible to erase her mind of the bad fucking thoughts that kept rattling around in there like a bucket of rocks.

And who better to drink with than the one person she didn’t completely despise on this giant goddamn dick machine? After all, they were supposed to leave tomorrow morning for Goodneighbor, having sent word to Sanctuary for Preston, Cait, and MacCready to meet them in the foul-smelling town with Dogmeat, which meant there would be some time to kill before she and Danse had to fly over there via vertibird. 

And considering the conversation she’d just finished having with Arthur? Well, she needed to drink.

A lot.

Danse was in the power armor bay like usual but was no longer working on his own armor – he’d finished fixing it that morning – and was instead working on hers. Not that she’d even wear it, of course, because she _hated_ wearing the damn thing; but it gave him something to do, at least. And the man hated not being busy just as much as she hated wearing power armor.

When she approached him from behind, he was crouched in front of the suit and working on one of the shin pieces with his back to her. Nora used her foot to give him a light kick in the rear to get his attention, which he promptly shifted on the balls of his feet to turn and meet her gaze. His own was met with a forced smile and four bottles of liquor in her hands – two in each – that she _definitely_ hadn’t stolen from the mess hall.

Brown eyes dropped to the bottles as he studied them almost skeptically, but he didn’t get a chance to question before she was making her case.

“I need a drinking buddy and I don’t mean that dumb robot. So, wanna join me? Because you should know, either way, I’m drinking in your room since I don’t have one of my own. And before you ask, no, I will not be taking questions about why I have so much liquor.”

She watched the paladin purse his lips for a moment before he brought himself to stand, towering over her like usual – the man was so damn _tall_ – and reached over to grab a towel from the workbench. He wiped his hands off with it, though his skeptical expression remained as he watched her. “Alright, Parker. I’ll be there in a few.”

Nora grinned triumphantly at him and spun on her heels, almost skipping away – which she might have done if she wasn’t carrying some precious whiskey bottles – to his room like she’d won a prize; then again, convincing Danse to drink with her sort of _was_ a prize in and of itself, wasn’t it? The man was so strait-laced she was always surprised to find out he ever had any fun. Still, she was certainly glad she wasn’t going to be drinking alone. If her father taught her anything, it was that drinking alone always led to bad thoughts and bad feelings and even worse actions.

The door to his room was unlocked; he’d stopped caring about keeping it secure after she always found her way in regardless – hacking wasn’t her forte but lockpicking sure was – and giving her a key seemed pointless because either she’d lose it or she’d just lockpick the damn thing anyway with the claim it was ‘more fun.’ So, when she opened it with no resistance, she could only allow another triumphant grin to spread across her face. Yet another battle she won against the mighty paladin.

It was about ten minutes before Danse finally showed up – hair wet and a clean jumpsuit hugging his form; he’d taken a quick shower since he’d been covered in oil before. The mere thought of water droplets sliding down his collarbone and disappearing into his chest hair had her tongue darting out to lick her lower lip as she looked at him, and for a second, she wanted to take his—

Oh, no. That was the whiskey talking already.

“Couldn’t wait?” he teased, glancing down at the bottle that was hugged between her thighs while her fingers were wrapped around its neck.

She glanced down at it before shrugging a shoulder. “You took too long and I got impatient.”

Danse moved to the bed and sat beside her, but with it being a single bed, there wasn’t any room between them, so they ended up squished against each other’s sides. Neither of them seemed to mind, however, and he just leaned back against the wall behind them. “Are you going to tell me why you have four bottles of whiskey with the desire to drink yourself into oblivion?”

“Mmmmm nope,” she answered easily before bringing the bottle of whiskey to her lips and taking a swig. Already, a quarter of it was gone.

The paladin reached over and snatched it from her hands, keeping it away as she tried to grab it back until, eventually, her lower lip poked out into a pout with defeat, like a child who’d just lost her favorite toy. He ignored her, of course, because those tactics never worked on him, and he, instead, took a couple gulps of it himself before finally returning it to her. She cradled the bottle against her chest.

“Didn’t you say we were _best friends_ yesterday? And now you won’t tell your best friend what’s wrong?”

“We _are_ best friends,” she confirmed as she roughly pushed her shoulder into his, though unlike when she did it to Cait or MacCready, he didn’t budge; she reached a hand up and rubbed her arm where they’d collided. “But besties still have secrets. I know _you_ have secrets you haven’t told me, so how can you expect me to tell you mine?” she asked before taking another swig and holding the bottle out to him.

He took it, following it up with a couple gulps of his own. “And what secrets do I have that I’m hiding from you?”

“Well, first of all,” she began, sticking her thumb in the air as if she was going to start a count, “You never told me you and Haylen kissed.” Rather than counting, however, Nora snatched the bottle back before bringing it to her lips, taking some of the liquid into her mouth; but that was when she noticed Danse’s face went as red as a tato and he didn’t answer. Quickly, she pulled the bottle away as the liquor that had been in her mouth was spewed out and onto their legs. “Oh my god, you did!?”

“Wait, you just—”

“I was only joking!”

_“Nora.”_

“Oh my god, Danse!” The vaultie was laughing now and almost dropped the liquor onto the bed, but Danse grabbed it before she did and took another few gulps, likely to ease his nerves. “You gave it up so easily! You gotta tell me the details, though. Was it good? I bet she’s a soft kisser.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“Ugh, you’re such a prude.” She grabbed the bottle from him and took another drink, but he snatched it right back with a glare and did the same thing – leaving the first bottle empty. “Worst. Bestie. Ever.”

They went silent for a few moments before Danse cleared his throat, seeming unable to truly drop the subject. “For the record, she kissed me.”

Nora grinned. “But you returned it.”

“I—well, yes. It seemed rude not to.”

“Doesn’t matter. You still made out. Niiiice.”

The paladin sighed with annoyance and thumped the back of his head against the wall; his cheeks were still bright red, though how much of that was from the liquor versus the embarrassing conversation they were having was unknown. But he was talking – and maybe that was because they’d already downed one bottle. “… She was a soft kisser, yes.”

“I fuckin’ knew it. Was she the best kiss you ever had?”

He grew quiet and seemed to think on it before leaning over her to grab the second bottle off the nightstand, popping it open and taking another drink. When he held it out to her, she eagerly accepted the gift and took a few gulps, her face now even redder than his and her ears burning – and none of it from embarrassment.

“No, she wasn’t,” he finally answered, “Who was yours?”

The vaultie took another gulp before leaning back against the wall again. “Hmm.” One hand raised, her fingertip tapping the tip of her nose in thought. “Definitely not Nate,” she admitted, and Danse raised his eyebrows in surprise but nodded. “He wasn’t that great at kissing – really sloppy ‘n wet, even though he did put a lotta passion in them. And _definitely_ not MacCready, either. Guy is good in bed, I’ll give him that, but his kisses are wetter than Nate’s were.”

Nora saw Danse smirk from the corner of her eye. “Ooh, probably shouldn’t-a said that, huh? You better not use it against him or I’mma be pissed.” She shot him a glare before taking another gulp of the second bottle. “There was a boyfriend I had right before I met Nate, though, who was a _verrrrry_ good kisser. Real asshole and pretty abusive, but excellent kisser ‘n great in bed.”

After a moment, however, she turned her eyes over to him only to see that smirk had been erased and was replaced with… surprise? “What?”

“Not Arthur?”

Oh. It was a fair question, but it still hurt. She looked away from him and shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly. “I mean, he’s a great kisser, sure, but I’unno if I’d say he was the _best_ I’ve ever had. Sex? Yeah, absolutely. The man’s a beast in bed. But kissing? Still gets beat by… uh…” Nora furrowed her eyebrows. “… Whatever his name was.” Her hand waved the words away in the air as she turned her eyes back to him, a grin having reappeared across her lips. “Why? Was Arthur a good kisser in your experience?”

Danse just rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Arthur may have taken men to bed in the past, but I was never one of them, nor do I have the desire t’be.”

“Wait, Arthur’s had men as subs?”

“Yes. Is that surprising?”

“Well, I mean… I guess. I dunno.” Nora crinkled her eyebrows before taking another swig of whiskey – when had the second bottle gotten so low? “Before the bombs, sexuality was… looked at different. Like, _very_ differently. I know now everyone is sorta open to who they fuck—” Danse crinkled his nose at the word “—and there’s not really any judgement.” She took another drink. “But that wasn’t the case in my time. You got shamed for bein’ with someone who was the same sex or gender as you. And there was plenty of times people got killed over that.”

Danse reached over to take the bottle from her. “I’ve read about that before,” he said before taking a couple gulps and handing it back.

Nora took her own gulps – the second bottle now only having about one-quarter left – and she could feel the increased buzzing in her head. It was probably a good thing she couldn’t see how red her cheeks and ears were. “Yeah, sooooo it still comes as a surprise to me – even now, I guess – when people are open about it. I mean, I was with other women b’fore I met Nate—”

“Waaait, really?”

With pursed lips, she gave him a look like they weren’t just talking about why she was surprised Arthur had fucked men. “Yes, paladin. Really, really. Anywayyy you never told me who was _your_ best kiss. So, spill.”

Danse snatched the bottle back and downed more of it – almost emptying the rest. Could he feel the warmth of the alcohol as much as she could? He was a lot bigger than her so he could probably hold his liquor better, but she also hadn’t really eaten much since breakfast.

“Mm,” he grunted, seeming to think on the answer before shaking his head. “Don’t wanna answer.” Oh, yeah, he was feeling it.

“Aw, c’mon.”

“No, don’t wanna.”

“I told you miiiine!” she pouted.

He huffed before finally caving, the whiskey having lowered his ability to deny her pouting. “Fine,” he said, but paused again, “It was you.”

Just when she was about to scream _’ad victoria!’_ in triumph to defeating his inhibition, she had to stop because he’d admitted _she_ was his best kiss – and that caught her off guard. Nora turned her eyes to look at him, eyebrows furrowed while she blinked a few times. “Waaaait, really? Me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you just fuckin’ with me, paladin?”

“Negative,” he said, the word coming out with irritation.

“How many people you kissed?”

“I dunno. Five, maybe? No, six. Including you.”

They grew quiet for a long moment as Nora leaned back against the wall again, her eyes staring off across the room. But when she brought her hand up to tap her fingertip against the tip of her nose like she usually did when thinking, she saw his head turn as he watched her – waiting to hear her reveal her thoughts. He’d apparently learned what that action meant. “Huh.”

“What?” he asked.

“I guess makin’ out with a lotta people in my teenage years really paid off.”

Danse groaned and rolled his eyes with a smile on his face while Nora just grinned and snorted a laugh; but he snatched the bottle from her and raised it to his lips, about to finish the rest of it. However, just as he did, she tried to snatch it back, mumbling something about _’don’t drink it all!’_ as if there weren’t two other unopened bottles on the nightstand; but when she pulled it, the glass clinked against his teeth, making him wince.

The vaultie gasped and she sat up on her knees to face him. “Fuck! I’m s-so sorry, Danse! Are you okay? I didn’t mean’ta punch you with the bottle.”

His hand went to his mouth, rubbing his finger at his teeth. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Lemme see.”

“No, I’m fi—” But her hands were already on his face, thumbs pushing his top lip up as she inspected his teeth and gums for damage. She focused on his front ones for a few seconds before her eyes grew wide – and she could almost feel the panic set in as his eyebrows furrowed while he watched her; but she never let go of his mouth.

“Oh, no.”

“Wha?” he asked, being unable to fully form the word since she still had his mouth open.

“S’not good.”

“Noh-ah,” he growled.

“I got really bad news, Danse.” She finally let go of his mouth and watched him run his tongue over the front of his teeth, trying to feel for any damage with it.

“What’s it?” 

“Your teeth… are fine. They’re great, actually. Which means I don’t getta practice doin’ tooth surgery.” Her lower lip poked out and she pretended to wipe a tear from her eye, sniffling along with the act.

“You’re impossible,” he groaned. But she grinned and leaned over to grab the third bottle of whiskey from the nightstand, the second having rolled off the bed and clattered on the ground after she hit him with it – and she was not about to try to chase it because that would only end in disaster.

“But that s’why you love me, riiiight?” she asked as she sat on her haunches beside him with the new bottle, her hands working at the cap. She struggled with it at first and Danse almost took it from her to open it himself, but she managed to twist it off after a second.

“Yeah, I s’pose so,” he said quietly as she was taking a drink. The grin returned to her face and he mimicked one of his own – but that’s when her eyes glanced down to his lips, her tongue darting out to wet her own bottom one. She felt a familiar heat pool between her thighs, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of Danse or the liquor.

The thought of a nice, hard fuck seemed like a great idea that would help clear her head, and Danse was clearly a ready and willing participant – maybe a little too ready and willing, but whatever. Still, fucking him might allow her to feel something good for the night rather than guilt and regret and self-loathing like Arthur had made her feel earlier; after all, Danse had gotten drunk with her and they’d been having fun. He definitely felt something for her, she found that out a while ago; and she knew she felt something for him, too, even if she wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

But maybe sex would help her figure it out.

Or was that the whiskey talking _again?_

Nora slowly raised her free hand to his jaw, fingers delicately touching his scruff as he tilted his face into it just slightly. She took another few gulps of the whiskey despite knowing she would regret drinking so heavily since they had to leave early in the morning – and she’d probably regret what she was about to do, as well – but she was far beyond caring at this point.

Danse took the bottle from her and downed a few swigs of his own, and once it was free from his mouth, Nora replaced the bottle’s presence with her lips – crashing their lips together in a rough kiss. It was sloppy and they were drunk, but it was _something_ , and that something was good right now. It was grounding.

The paladin held the bottle in one hand while his other raised to her side, rubbing up the fabric of her vault suit before he coaxed her into his lap. She shifted over, straddling his thighs so their bodies were tightly pressed together, their lips still locked in a messy kiss that tasted thick of whiskey.

But with each swig she took from the third bottle in between the kisses and grinds of their bodies, the quicker everything faded in and out.

══════════════════

Arthur had finally slept last night – not because Nora had come to bed, because she hadn’t, but because he was far too exhausted to keep himself awake any longer. He’d passed out almost immediately when his head hit the pillow and was thrust into a slew of nightmares that revolved around Amelia, Sara Lyons, and Nora – three women he’d never wanted to disappoint but had come to do so regardless.

And now, he lived with the consequences of doing just that.

He’d woken up a few times throughout the night covered in sweat, gasping, and panicking. He was forced to relive Sarah’s death; Amelia declaring he was no longer the innocent little boy she knew but instead a monster; and how he’d manipulated Nora, made her cry, and baited her into striking him for the third time.

Arthur hated himself.

He _despised_ himself.

And when his alarm sounded at 0600, it was a welcome relief. He didn’t feel rested but, in fact, felt like he hadn’t even slept at all – and part of him wished he’d somehow managed to stay awake throughout the night just so he didn’t have to deal with the guilt that plagued his dreams each time he slept alone, as well as the extreme exhaustion that overtook him come morning. But he knew he’d have to go through it again the next night and the night after that until he either confronted his demons or found some other way to block them out for good.

The Elder took time to shower, letting the lukewarm water roll over his body to relieve some of the tension; he tried to work out some of the knots in his neck that Nora had managed to release not long ago before they came back, but didn’t have much luck. And so, the tension remained, and nothing seemed to help; once he was clean, he dressed in his jumpsuit, rolled the sleeves to just beneath his elbows, and went to retrieve some breakfast and coffee from the mess hall before beginning his day – opting to leave his battle coat since it was just a short trip.

Soldiers were still waking, so there wasn’t a lot of commotion and he didn’t run into a lot of people. Lancer-Captain Kells was awake, of course, as he was always promptly ready for duty by 0600 even though he didn’t even need to be up until that time. The man had to be the most dedicated soldier Arthur knew – and that was precisely why he’d been promoted to second-in-command. There was a quick greeting before Kells ensured the meeting to see Danse and Nora off on their mission at 0800 was still happening, and once confirmed, they parted ways.

Upon seeing what food was available, Arthur decided to skip out on breakfast – not the wisest of choices, he knew, but it wasn’t often he found he had no appetite in the mornings – and just grabbed a cup of black coffee. The taste was always disgusting but it provided him with caffeine for the morning and that was a good enough reason for him to drink it, especially now that he just couldn’t sleep or sleep well.

On his way back to his quarters, however, he glanced to Danse’s door. The two hadn’t actually spoken since… well, since what happened in the showers, even though Arthur _should_ have already gone and apologized for it by now but had been putting it off because of how irritable he was from lack of sleep. But since the paladin and Nora would be leaving for an unknown amount of time to track down a courser, the Elder knew he needed to address the issue and apologize to his friend before they left. Whether Danse forgave him or not was another issue, but he at least needed to _try_. Arthur had already pushed Nora away – he couldn’t completely lose his best friend, too.

So, when he approached Danse’s door and found it was slightly open, he assumed it meant the soldier was already up and awake for the day. After all, if there was anyone who matched Kells’ promptness and decorum, it was certainly Danse. Still, rather than immediately barging in, the Elder reached forward and rapped his knuckles on the bulkhead before gently pushing the barrier open with a loud creak – then peeked in.

“Paladin—”

But that’s when he saw them.

Together.

Danse was lying on his back with his arm around Nora, her head on his chest and her own arm draped over his stomach. They were both asleep at first, but the creak of the bulkhead and Arthur’s voice seemed to wake the paladin. His eyes fluttered open to reveal their soft brown hue and he blinked a few times before furrowing his brow, then tilted his head to look at the door. Confusion washed over his face – perhaps more at seeing the rage that had taken over Arthur’s expression than the fact Arthur was even _there_ to begin with – before he looked down to his chest to see Nora’s red locks splashed atop his skin.

Then the panic set in.

Arthur had never seen a man move so fast after just waking. Danse pulled away from her and jumped off the bed and to his feet, his eyes wide like a radiated doe as he stared at the Elder. “Arthur,” he said in a low, panicked tone, as if trying to convince himself the other man was there. But his movements had woken Nora and she groaned before raising a hand to her forehead, swiping some of her hair back from her face.

“Ugh, what the hell?” Her voice was sleepy, and her eyes hadn’t even opened yet. “Fuck me dead, I have a migraine,” she grumbled before pushing herself up to lean on her hand; her free one rubbed at her eyes a few times before she finally opened them.

Maybe that was when the paladin realized he was naked, however. He looked over to Nora as she sat up, his eyebrows furrowed as he first looked to her face, then her chest – where she was exposed, the blankets covering from just below her bellybutton and down – and then at himself before his hands quickly went to cover his groin, almost shamefully. The skin on his face turned a bright red that a tato would have been jealous of and it contrasted with the black mop of hair on his head.

══════════════════

Nora’s eyes first landed on Arthur while he was partially in the doorway, gripping the handle of the cup of coffee in his hands so his knuckles were white. She blinked a few times before following his gaze, seeing him glaring at… Danse? Though their eyes were locked, their expressions were completely different; Arthur had clear rage and fury on his face while Danse almost looked confused and _panicked_.

And he was holding his – oh.

_Oh._

Nora looked down at herself.

_Oh god._

Her entire face went red though she did nothing to cover herself, no longer finding a reason to since both men had now obviously seen her naked and neither of them were even looking at her, anyway. Instead, she let her eyes lower to the foot of the bed as she thought for a long moment, allowing them to stare one another down as she did.

And then, finally, she spoke in a quiet voice.

“Arthur, get out.”

“Nora—” he began.

“I said _get out!_ ” Her voice raised and she snapped her eyes up to glare at him, but he never broke eye contact with Danse, even as he tipped his chin up just slightly and backed out of the doorway, shutting the bulkhead behind him. She listened to the thuds of his heavy boots travel across the metal floor until he reached his room and the sound of another door slamming echoed throughout the ship, followed by muffled crashes and bangs. She knew what he was doing – but that was his problem now, not hers.

Instead, she looked to Danse, whose wide eyes were still stuck on the door as if Arthur hadn’t left seconds ago, and his hands were still covering his groin. “Danse,” she whispered softly; only then did he seem to release the breath he’d been holding, but he didn’t look away just yet. “Danse, did we…?”

“I don’t know,” he replied before finally letting his eyes drop from the door. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, no longer covering himself since his back was to her and his elbows were on his knees. “I don’t really remember.”

“Yeah… me, neither.”

_Her hands were tangled in his hair, gripping thick strands between her fingers while his face was buried in her neck, biting and licking and kissing the soft skin. He’d slotted his clothed hips between her thighs minutes before, grinding against her as she encouraged him to keep going. The third liquor bottle had been discarded somewhere while the fourth remained on the nightstand beside them, unopened._

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

_Deft fingers worked at the orange jumpsuit while he was still above her, pulling at the straps and buckles and sliding it down to his hips so her fingers could roam over the hair on his chest and belly as each spot was exposed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled their clothed hips together so she could feel his hard cock grind against her as their lips met in another kiss._

“I… not much, I guess. It just sort of fades in and out,” he answered. “What about you?”

_They’d stripped each other naked – albeit a bit clumsily – before Danse was back between her legs, his holotags dangling from his neck and resting on her stomach while his lips kissed at her freckled chest. Her hands had found their way back into his hair again, grabbing fistfuls as she sighed at the feeling of his lips wrapping around a pebbled nipple and sucking it into his mouth._

“Yeah… not much,” she confirmed.

Danse put his face in his hands, clearly distraught over the entire situation. She reached a hand over and gently touched his upper arm – part of her expected him to recoil, but when he remained still and let her, she slowly rubbed the area comfortingly. “I’m sorry, Danse. I shouldn’t have asked you to drink with me.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said quietly, “I can make my own decisions. I just…” There was a pause as he thought for a moment. “He’s not happy.”

Nora had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “He’s never happy unless I’m in his bed and doing what he wants, but he isn’t in control of me and if he has to learn that the hard way, then so be it.” She shifted to sit on the edge of the bed with him, both still naked but neither seeming to care enough to change that just yet. “Arthur made his decision last night when he said he only wants me around for sex,” she admitted quietly, her gaze dropping to the ground. “And now he has to live with that decision. He has no right to get jealous over me sleeping with someone else, no matter who it is.”

“You know how he is, Parker.”

“Yes, I do. I also know he thinks he has no emotions and that he’s a monster and he’s determined to prove everyone right about that. But whatever happened last night can’t be changed, so he can either continue to have a tantrum and break shit in his room like a child or he can talk to me and learn to get the fuck over it.”


	27. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You need to fix this, Arthur.” Her voice cracked just slightly, and he gripped his hair tighter. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take from you. I wasn’t even going to come in here but Danse convinced me to because he knew you would be destructive and might end up hurting yourself somehow. And he was right.”

_She cheated._

_No, we weren’t together._

Arthur was steaming almost as much as the skin on his hand and arm was. The coffee that had been brewed in the mess hall just before he’d poured himself a cup was thrown across the room as soon as the bulkhead was shut, the liquid spilling over the edge of the mug and onto him as he was chucking it.

It hurt.

It fucking _hurt_.

His skin was bubbling from the burn but because his adrenaline was pumping as he raged, he’d managed to completely ignore it. After throwing the cup so it smashed against the wall with a loud _clatter_ , he picked up one of the chairs that was neatly tucked beneath the table which sat in the center of his room and swung it against the wall, breaking the plastic backing from the metal bottom. The action was followed by breaking another chair, that one getting chucked near his bed; and another, and another, until each seat was either thrown across the room or smashed against the closest wall and broken into pieces.

The table was next – the heavy piece of furniture kicked and flipped over with a loud _crash_ as it was sent sliding across the floor and into the dresser, whatever having been atop it now littering the ground.

By the time Arthur was done destroying whatever he could get his hands on, his room was… well, his room was a mess. Items were scattered all over the floor from a trunk he’d picked up and smashed against a wall; pieces of chairs were broken all over the place; the table was on its side and across the room; the ceramic coffee mug was broken into tiny pieces; papers were disorganized and strewn all over the floor; and the candle – the one that smelled of pumpkin and reminded him of _her_ – had been hesitantly picked up and chucked against the wall near his desk, its glass shattered and the shards spread all over the floor like the trust he’d placed in his best friend and the woman he’d invited into his bed while the small, remaining piece of the brown candle itself sat alone on the metal ground.

Now, he sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees while his uninjured hand was placed on his forehead and the injured one was just stretched out in front of him as he breathed heavily and tried to calm himself down.

He was a child. He’d just had a tantrum. An impulsive temper tantrum.

No longer did he have control over himself or his life or these… _emotions_ Nora was making him feel. But he certainly felt them – that was something he couldn’t deny anymore. He felt the jealousy and rage boiling in his gut like magma until it finally exploded from the volcano’s vent of his pores, becoming lava he spewed all over the place. And the result? 

A fucking temper tantrum.

But if he kept going at this rate, he was bound to release an explosive eruption and cover his ship and army in ash, suffocating and burning them alive just as Mount Vesuvius had done to Pompeii. He’d bring everyone down with him if he didn’t find some way to regain himself.

The Elder’s head slipped a bit lower in his palm so his fingers went into his hair, gripping the brown locks tightly as if trying to will himself to get his shit together. But how? How the hell was he supposed to do that? He _had_ his shit together until she came into his life and wrecked every single thing he knew to be true; and now, he was left to feel all these fucking emotions without even understanding what they were, how to handle them, or even how to put words to what he was feeling.

The door opened quietly, and he felt his irritation spike at the intrusion but never lifted his head. “Leave,” he growled; but instead, the door was shut and there were slow, hesitant footsteps approaching him. He wanted to scream at whoever it was, tell them to fuck off and leave him alone to deal with whatever was wrong with him in peace – even if what he was doing wasn’t exactly healthy nor truly coping. But they kept approaching until he saw two bare feet beneath cobalt blue pant legs come into his line of vision - feet he’d recognize anywhere as they’d been in his bed many times.

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed and he let out a quiet sigh. He’d probably scared her from the way his room looked – he couldn’t blame her for being hesitant in approaching him. But he didn’t look at her; he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to see the disappointment on her face knowing he’d been the one to cause it yet again. It would be the same look Amelia had given him after seeing what he’d become; the same look he’d get from Kells once the man heard what happened in here and the reason behind it; the same look he always received from the Council Elders for not having found a wife yet; the same look she’d given him time and again after he’d acted out like a petulant child.

He didn’t want to see it in her face again, but he knew it’d be there.

A hand came into his view, palm facing upward expectantly. Sky blue eyes stared at it for a long moment, unsure what she wanted until she spoke her demands. “Let me see it,” she ordered, though her voice was soft. She gestured to his injured arm where the skin had bubbles from the hot coffee that had spilled on it. How had he even managed to ignore the pain? Was his adrenaline pumping that much? It was starting to set in now especially, the burning sensation was only getting worse. But he shook his head, not wanting to let her see up close what he’d done to himself; still, she kept her hand out, palm up. “Let me see your arm, Arthur.”

He hesitated at that point but obeyed, lifting his arm to show her the burns but not even daring to look at her. She took his arm in her hand and examined the wound, being sure not to touch the burned areas and sighed softly. The disappointment was clear in the breath that exited her lips and it made him want to hide.

He didn’t blame her for being disappointed; he was disappointed in himself.

“You need to stop this,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” Nora released his arm and stepped away, moving to his desk. She opened one of the drawers where he kept a few extra stimpacks and picked two out before shutting it again, then returned to his side. She knew her way around his room – their room? No, just his room – by now, so she had no trouble finding anything she wanted or needed. Hell, he’d watched her rummage through his drawers one day because she was so damn nosy even though she’d called it ‘curiosity.’ 

When she came back to him, she sat beside him on the bed and held out her hand again, waiting for him to give her his arm. He did, though still refused to look at her. He was too ashamed.

The vaultie uncapped one of the stimpacks, slipping the needle into his skin near where the burn began close to his hand and wrist, slowly pushing the injector to allow the medicine to flow into his vein. Once empty, she set it aside before uncapping the second one and injecting it further up his forearm, then put both empty packs on his nightstand.

They sat quietly for a few moments, but the silence was unbearable. It was allowing him to stew in his own thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes slipping closed out of shame.

“I know.”

“I think I’ve lost control.”

“You have, yes.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You learn how to cope and move on.”

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed at that. This didn’t sound like Nora – it was her, but the words she was using? They were not the ones she’d have said to him before. She wasn’t trying to comfort him or make him feel better; she was just… telling him to get over it.

She sounded like _him_.

“Nora—”

“You need to fix this, Arthur.” Her voice cracked just slightly, and he gripped his hair tighter. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take from you. I wasn’t even going to come in here but Danse convinced me to because he knew you would be destructive and might end up hurting yourself somehow. And he was right.”

“I’m sorry—”

“I know you are. But you keep doing shit like this and it’s not okay. I know you don’t like to hear it but you’re acting like a child.” His jaw tensed and he felt that rage boiling deep in his gut again. He tried to calm it though he knew she was right. “You need to grow up.”

“But you slept with Danse—”

Before the Elder even realized it, Nora’s hand was on his chin, delicate fingers grasping through his beard and yanking his face so he would look at her. His eyes finally opened, and he obliged – her face was red, her eyes were puffy and watery, and she looked… tired. There wasn’t any disappointment there, just exhaustion.

Exhaustion because of him.

“Listen to me, Arthur,” she began, her hand never letting up on his chin. He didn’t care enough to push her away. “We were never together, nor will we ever be, you’ve made that very clear over and over and over again. You don’t get to punish me for this. I didn’t cheat on you.” A few tears slipped down her cheeks and he watched one fall, the clear drop sliding down her freckled skin until it dripped off her chin and disappeared onto her vault suit. But she squeezed his face harder and his eyes snapped up to meet her gaze again. “You can’t keep doing this to me. You’re breaking me piece by piece and soon, there won’t be anything left for you to keep scratching at.”

That familiar ache was in his chest again, but it was much worse this time; worse than he’d ever felt before.

Nora shook her head slightly, her face scrunching up a bit as she tried to keep more tears from falling. “I’ve tried to help you, Arthur. I really have. But I can’t do it like this.” Her hand finally let go but he didn’t look away. Instead, he just stared at her, trying to find the answer to what he was supposed to say or do.

So, he settled with giving her honesty.

“I’m so tired, Nora,” he admitted quietly.

He wasn’t sure if she knew of his nightmares. The first night she’d slept in his bed, after they’d first had sex, he’d woken up sweating and hyperventilating and panicking a couple times; and if he’d woken her because of it, she showed no sign of actually stirring nor remembering. It was a small gift she likely granted him. The second time they’d slept together when he’d held her overnight was when the nightmares stopped happening.

There was conflict written on her face and she looked to the door for a moment, as if debating whether she wanted to stay or leave; and then she glanced to the clock on the nightstand – 0630. He hoped she didn’t take notice the candle was missing – that was already the biggest regret of every item he’d destroyed. But if she did notice it, she didn’t comment.

Still, she didn’t answer, and he found himself feeling desperate. She was the only one who could help him sleep; and even if he only slept for an hour and a half, that was fine with him. “Please, Nora,” he whispered, his eyebrows furrowed as he waited for her answer. _Please. I need you,_ he thought.

The vaultie’s eyes finally returned to him and she let out a sigh of defeat. “Okay,” she answered, “Okay. Let’s lay down.”

They stripped – though she was still hesitant, seemingly unsure, but he didn’t force her. Instead, he pulled his clothes off and laid on the bed, waiting, eyes closed so he didn’t stare at her expectantly again. He didn’t want sex – he didn’t care about that right now. He just wanted to sleep; he wanted her in his arms so he could finally get the rest he needed without waking up from nightmares.

And maybe that was the intimacy he craved – having her pulled against his chest throughout the night as he listened to her breathing even out before he finally allowed his brain to relax and sleep to overtake him.

Nora climbed into the bed with him after undressing and laid with her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her against him like he always did – one arm under her neck, though it didn’t curl over her chest and instead laid out flat so he wasn’t making his burn worse while it healed, and the other draped over her stomach with his fingers tucked beneath her side. He placed gentle kisses to her neck that were soft apologies for his actions before settling against her and almost feeling the tension he’d fought with in the shower earlier leave him in a single giant wave. Sleep was quick to take him – quiet, dark, and peaceful sleep.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all ready to start hunting a courser?


	28. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she’d arrived at the Memory Den, she was greeted by Irma’s sweet voice – something Nora would definitely describe as a sexy sound – asking what she was doing back. The vaultie explained she needed to find out what happened last night so Irma set her up in one of the loungers.
> 
> Now, lying back, her heart was thudding in her chest as she was taken into her memory from the night before.

Nora left before Arthur woke, managing to wiggle her way free of his hold and leave him lying in the bed alone. His injured arm was still outstretched, though the burns seemed to be healed quite a bit more by then, and the arm that had been draped over her stomach remained with his fist curled against the bed as if he were still wrapped around her.

As she silently dressed, she studied him, taking in the sight of his hair that was usually slicked back instead being tousled and in his face. His eyes had dark circles under them, showing the exhaustion from nights he hadn’t slept or at least hadn’t slept well, plagued by memories of a past that haunted him. 

Part of her felt guilty – she’d known of his nightmares, at least to some extent. She’d woken up that first night each time he’d gasped awake while sweating and breathing heavy from panic, though she pretended to remain asleep and hadn’t brought it up later, knowing he would have felt uncomfortable if she did. However, when she slept with him any time after that, he didn’t have any nightmares – and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her presence or because they just weren’t common. Regardless, the way he practically begged her to stay so he could sleep told her enough and it made her feel horrible for leaving him.

But she had to.

Nora had to find her son; she had to hunt down a courser to get one of their chips and find a way to decode it so they could intercept the signal and send her into the Institute. She needed her son back – she’d promised Nate she’d find him and that was a promise she intended to keep, even if it meant leaving Arthur alone. Even if it pained her to do it. 

But he’d made clear he didn’t need her and only wanted her for sex – and as much as she wanted to believe that wasn’t the case, as much as he made it seem otherwise by begging her to stay so he could sleep and by being jealous over everything she did with other people – especially Danse – she still wasn’t entirely sure he was lying. So, she left him in bed, arms curled around a form that was no longer there as he slept peacefully, finally getting the rest he needed and deserved. She only hoped he’d be able to keep resting that way while she was gone.

The vaultie reported to Kells since he was second-in-command, finding him on the bridge speaking to the lancers by 0815. Danse was behind her in his power armor, but he remained quiet as she took the lead, allowing her to deal with speaking to Kells since it was not only her mission, but because she was going to speak about Arthur.

Kells was not happy to see her.

“Knight Parker.” The Lancer-Captain stood up straight and glared down at her. “You should have reported to Elder Maxson fifteen minutes ago. Why are you down here?”

Nora dipped her head respectfully, which was unusual since she didn’t enjoy following Brotherhood rules; and Kells seemed to have been caught off guard by the act. “Lancer-Captain Kells, perhaps we should speak in private.” Her eyes glanced to the lancers who were occasionally peeking over his shoulder at her. “May we speak on the observation deck?” The man was hesitant, but obliged, and followed her up there. It wasn’t _much_ privacy, but it was something.

Once they were there, she spoke in a low tone. “Arthur is—”

“Elder Maxson,” he corrected. 

The vaultie sighed. “Elder Maxson hasn’t been sleeping and when he does, it’s not well. I managed to help him fall asleep—”

“You mean by seducing him.”

Nora’s eyes narrowed and she heard Danse step forward, beginning to speak up in her defense. “Sir, with all due respect—” he began, but she held up a hand, telling him to stop – something she’d learned from Arthur that definitely worked wonders.

“For your information, Lancer-Captain, Arthur—”

“Elder Maxson,” he corrected again, though his tone was even sharper than before.

“— _Arthur_ came onto me first and initiated our relationship, so if you have a problem with it, then I suggest you take it up with him. After all, that is how the chain of command works, is it not?”

Kells bristled at her words and tipped his chin up. “You should still be reporting to him.”

“As I was saying before you interrupted me, I helped him fall asleep and I have no desire to wake him. If you’d like to do so, then be my guest; otherwise, we’ll report to you so we can be on our way.”

The two glared at one another for a long moment and she could hear Danse shifting uncomfortably on his feet before Kells finally gave in. “Very well. There is a comms unit in Paladin Danse’s power armor that can be activated once you gather your… team,” the word was spat, “And begin the mission of hunting a courser. We expect constant communication once this begins. And as soon as you have the courser chip, you should return to the Prydwen immediately so we can look at it.”

“Yes, sir.”

══════════════════

The moment they’d arrived in Goodneighbor, Nora had handed her bag off to Danse. He was surprised, of course, and questioned where she was going, but the moment she began heading for the Memory Den, she could tell he understood. She’d apologized and explained she had to find out what happened last night and that, regardless of the outcome, nothing between them would change. The paladin seemed to understand and left her to it and instead went to put their bags in their room in the Rexford – having opted to save some caps by sharing a room with two beds since the others would stay in the Statehouse with Hancock overnight, and Nora didn’t trust Danse enough to not fight with Hancock to stay there with them and she didn’t want to leave him alone, either. They’d spend the day going over plans on how to handle the courser since the damn things were supposed to be entirely overpowered, as well as where the signal was located, battle strategies, and so forth, and then set off in the morning.

Besides, the others weren’t there yet but were close, so she had some time to kill.

When she’d arrived at the Memory Den, she was greeted by Irma’s sweet voice – something Nora would definitely describe as a sexy sound – asking what she was doing back there. The vaultie explained she needed to find out what happened last night and Irma set her up in one of the loungers.

Now, lying back, her heart was thudding in her chest as she was taken into her memory from the night before.

══════════════════

Her lips had found Danse’s after he’d pulled the bottle away from his mouth, his hand coaxing her into his lap as it stroked up and down her side. The kiss was sloppy and eager, but they were drunk, and Nora had no intention of slowing down when she just wanted to feel something – and that something at the moment was Danse between her thighs.

She ground herself down against him, feeling how his cock was already semi-hard beneath her while his free hand slid from her side and back to her ass, taking a handful of it and making her moan against him. Since both of her own hands were free, her fingers went into his hair, threading into the thick, black locks.

But the kiss broke after a moment and the vaultie moved her mouth to his neck, kissing at the column of his throat and nibbling gently in a few spots as he moaned beneath her and tipped his head back to offer more of himself to her. She felt him swallow as he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a few more gulps, to which she broke away from his throat and took the bottle from him, taking a few of her own. Danse was back on her neck just as soon as she did, kissing a few spots before both hands were on her ass again, kneading the flesh over her vault suit.

Nora’s hips started grinding down against him, moving back and forth as if she were riding him though their clothes were still on. He groaned against her neck and she took a couple more gulps, but the bottle was snatched from her hand and set down on the floor beside the bed before he flipped them over so he was on top, keeping his face buried in her neck and kissing the soft skin. His hard cock was pushed against her more from this angle and she made a soft moan and slid her hands back into his hair, gripping the thick strands between her fingers.

“Fuck, Danse,” she sighed; his hands went to her vault suit, pulling the zipper down just enough to reveal her collarbone as his lips trailed down to it, tongue licking the bone and notch right in the middle. She shuddered beneath him and her hands left his hair while she began to pull at the straps and buckles on his suit in turn, attempting to get him out of it, but the damn things were always so ridiculous to undo – she still struggled with Arthur’s even after she’d undressed him so many times. But he helped her and pushed the jumpsuit down to his hips, revealing his bare chest.

Immediately, Nora’s hands went to his chest, fingers threading into the hair and rubbing along the exposed area and down to his stomach. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him against her again so the bulge in his jumpsuit pushed against her clothed cunt, and when it hit her clit just right, she gasped and let out another moan.

The paladin seemed to catch the change in her tone, however, and made a soft noise against her collarbone before pushing his cock against that same spot again, bringing out another gasp from her. He started unzipping her vault suit the rest of the way, gently tugging it down her shoulders so it was resting at her hips. His hands snaked beneath her, one pulling her back into an arch and the other using his thumb and forefinger to unclasp her bra – which he did very proficiently, surprisingly – and then gently pulling it off her shoulders and tossing it to the side.

But Nora was growing impatient; the dizziness of the liquor was starting to take her, and she wanted him _now_. She made a small whine and, since he was too far down for her to reach his jumpsuit with her hands, she used her feet to try to push it all the way off. He made a small laugh against her sternum and shifted to his knees, pushing it and his underwear down and then kicking them away.

Royal blue eyes lowered to take in the sight of Danse’s hard cock and she bit her lower lip. When they were in the showers, she hadn’t really gotten a close look at him – but now that he was right here, between her legs, she could see exactly what she’d been missing out on and _fuck_.

Her gaze returned to him and he grinned before falling to his hands and knees over her and pressing his lips to hers. They kissed for a few moments before she pulled back and her hands went to her suit, pushing it down a bit more. “Take this off,” she said impatiently. He sat back on his haunches and helped her get it off her hips and legs, pulling her underwear down with it, finally leaving them both naked.

Quickly, he was back between her thighs, pressing their bodies together and placing kisses to her freckled chest. His holotags rested on her stomach as he moved to one breast and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue against it; Nora moaned gently and arched her back into him, her hands sliding into his hair again.

“Fuck me, Danse. Please. I wanna feel something good tonight.”

Her words threw him off, however, and he stopped, seeming to realize what they were doing through the fog of the whiskey. He released her nipple from his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows, looking up to her before he climbed back up her body, still nestled between her thighs. Their eyes met and she leaned up to steal another kiss, but he turned his head and denied it.

“I think we should stop,” he said quietly.

“What? Why?” Her hips wiggled against him, trying to get some friction though she was only grinding on his lower belly.

“B’cause we’re drunk, you ‘specially, and I don’t want this to be how it starts between us.” Nora’s eyebrows furrowed but she remained quiet. “If this is what you want, Nora, then I do, too. But not while we’re drunk. And not jus’ b’cause you’re angry at Arthur.”

It was then her face scrunched up as tears welled in her eyes and one of his hands raised to wipe a few of them from her cheek with his thumb. “Hey, hey, hey. Why’re you cryin’?”

“I’m so sorry, Danse,” she whispered, her voice cracking. He sighed and leaned down to press another kiss to her lips, this time much gentler than before though it still tasted thick of whiskey. After it broke, he wiped a few more tears from her cheek as she spoke. “Can we just… will you hold me?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he said quietly. The paladin moved out from between her legs and rolled onto his back, allowing her to lay against his side with his arm around her shoulders and her head on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicah can’t be mad at me now huahaha


	29. Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courser’s eyes narrowed a little and he gave a slight cock of his head; that alone sent shivers up her spine. He was like a snake – unpredictable, likely venomous, but blending in with the rest of the environment until he was ready to strike when you got too close.
> 
> That was fucking terrifying.

“Jesus, Mac, you’re never eating pork n’ beans again!” Nora waved her hand in front of her face for a moment before pulling up the collar of her vault suit and covering her nose with it. “We’re _outside_ and it still smells horrible. I’m thinking about sending you back to Goodneighbor.”

“Yeh, he might fit in there with the smell,” Cait added before dry heaving. Danse’s face was crinkled with disgust and Preston remained at a distance so he could avoid the smell. Hell, even Dogmeat was staying away.

“Hey, now,” Hancock interjected, seeming insulted by the words but unphased by the horrendous stench, “Goodneighbor doesn’t smell _this_ bad. This is all Mac. Give the kid some credit.”

“Sorry, sorry,” RJ said, turning to walk backward so he could see everyone – apparently deciding walking in _front_ of the group was the best idea despite the gifts he was leaving them in the air. “Well, not really, but it might make you all feel better to hear it.”

“Next person to pack pork n’ beans in their bag for him to eat is getting stuffed in a Pulowski Preservation Shelter with him for the rest of the night. Ugh.” Nora coughed and stepped to the side, putting some more distance between her and the mercenary – but he followed.

“Aw, c’mon, Boss. You sayin’ you don’t want me close anymore?” Mac held his arms out as he moved after her, but Nora quickly moved away and tried to hide near Cait.

“That’s _exactly_ what I’m saying!”

“Oh, no, ya don’t!” Cait growled. “Don’t go bringin’ him over here!”

“Well _I_ don’t want him!” Nora shot back. Cait gently shoved the vault dweller away but before they could really even separate, MacCready’s arms grabbed them both and pulled them close to his chest.

“Ladies, ladies. There’s plenty of me to go around, relax.”

“Yeh, there is, ‘cuz ya keep blowin’ it out yer arse!” Cait shoved him away and he stumbled back a few steps while laughing, but then immediately went back toward Nora, determined to catch her.

“No!” she shrieked and darted away from him again, this time hiding behind Hancock. The ghoul wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side almost protectively.

“Don’t worry, sunshine. I wouldn’t let the gross mercenary boy touch ya.” Mac approached but kept a distance, a grin still plastered on his face as he watched them, as if trying to determine when he could strike again. Nora just stuck her tongue out at him and kept herself close to Goodneighbor’s mayor as if that wouldn’t backfire at all.

“Don’t think that’s fair, Boss,” Mac said, crossing his arms as he walked backward since they were still traveling along the road. “Hancock would give up his entire arm if it meant he could touch your ass with the other one.”

“And why do you think I ran to him? Go ahead and touch my ass, John. You’ve earned it.” John immediately went for it, but rather than touching or groping or grabbing like she’d expected, he smacked it – palm flat as it landed on her ass cheek and made a loud clapping noise. Nora yelped and jumped away from him, shooting him a glare. “Uncalled for! I said touch, not smack! See if I ever let you do anything ever again.”

Of course, since the ghoul was laughing and Nora had jumped away, Mac began going after her again, but she ran to Danse, one of the only two people left who might protect her from the prowling mercenary. The power armor-clad soldier watched her run to his side though he didn’t try to hold her against him like Hancock did nor push her away like Cait did; instead, he just let her walk against him as his eyes raised to Mac, who was now stopped a distance away with a crinkled nose. They stared one another down and that was enough to end the chase.

“Alright, that’s _really_ not fair, Boss. Hiding behind the tuna can is cheating,” RJ huffed. But the vaultie just grinned her victory.

“We’re here.” Preston’s voice caught everyone’s attention and they all looked over to him as they approached the CIT ruins. Nora lifted her arm and flicked a couple knobs and buttons on her pip-boy before the low beeping sound of the signal began, disrupting the playful night.

She took a deep breath. “Alright. Everyone ready? Let’s get this party started.”

Traversing around outside to follow the beeping courser signal was frustrating and she heard complaints from MacCready every few minutes about how loud and annoying the beeps were; but it didn’t take entirely too long before they were standing outside Greenetech Genetics where the signal was the strongest. When they entered the building, everything was quiet – but the dead Gunner body that was slumped over the counter directly in front of them was… concerning. Mac seemed unsettled about it and mumbled a few things beneath his breath, though Nora didn’t catch what they were.

“Well, something definitely happened here,” Preston said quietly as he slowly walked through the doorway and looked up to find another body hanging over the railing on the floor above. “Do you think we’re too late?”

“Dunno ‘bout you all, but I ain’t willin’ ta risk missin’ all the action,” Cait added. She pointed over toward an open doorway, which seemed to be the only direction they could go for now since the other staircase leading to the second floor had collapsed.

Nora flipped the radio signal on her pip-boy off just in time for Dogmeat to begin growling and slowly climbing the steps. She followed close behind, the others doing the same; and once they reached the top and went through another doorway on the right, they were met with that same dead body that hung over the railing.

_”The Courser’s on the second floor. Kill on sight. Send reinforcements to the lobby in case there are more.”_

“Ooh, that doesn’t sound good,” Nora admitted quietly.

“Sounds like a good fuckin’ time to me,” the Irish woman corrected as she flexed her hand in the deathclaw gauntlet she wore. Then again, anything that involved fighting sounded like a good time to Cait.

They moved toward another set of doorways, but as soon as Nora began stepping through it, the sound of a beeping turret almost echoed in the large open area. She was grabbed by the back of her vault suit and yanked back just as it started firing, her body being pushed into a wall as Danse stood in front of her, having been the one to pull her from danger.

“Reckless,” he hissed, irritation filling his face and voice. The vault dweller only grinned up at him before she reached a hand to his face and patted his cheek affectionately and dismissively at the same time, then turned to see her companions already making quick work of the turrets and the Gunners who had infiltrated the place before them.

It took some time before they were close to the top, Nora having grabbed a bunch of junk on the way – receiving groans of annoyance from each companion except Dogmeat, because he was the best and never complained about anything – as well as ammo. And once they were standing outside two white doors, she froze, listening to the voices inside.

“I don’t know the password. I’m telling the truth!” one man cried from the room; terror was filling his tone.

But the voice that responded sent chills up her spine – it was emotionless, _truly_ emotionless. Nothing like what Arthur thought he was. “I don’t believe you are. All he had to do was tell me the password. Now, are you going to cooperate?”

“Oh, god. Okay, okay. Just don’t shoot. Let me think!” There was a gunshot and Nora winced. Her eyes turned to her companions and they all waited for their commands. Silently, she signaled for Danse and Mac to remain with her while the others held back at first, then to follow in after the fighting started.

“I’m going to get in there,” the Courser said, “It’s just a matter of time. Tell me the password.”

“Look, I already told you, I don’t have it.” The voice that answered this time was different. “I’ll help you find a way in, but listen, we took the girl fair and squa—”

Nora, Danse, and Mac pushed into the room, but the doors immediately slammed shut behind them, locking the rest of the group out. There was yelling on the other side of it, followed by banging as someone was throwing their weight against the metal barricade.

“You’ve been following me.” Her eyes landed on where the voice came from – the Courser, a man dressed in a black trench coat with brown hair that was tied back. He would have looked like just any other man on the street, even in prewar Boston – but his voice would have proven otherwise. “Are you here for the synth?” Their eyes locked together, and, for a moment, she thought his were the same color as Arthur’s – but they were more of a steel grey than a blue. Yet the scar that traveled down the left side of his face, from his hairline to his jaw, reminded her of Kellogg.

It made her want to scream.

“What synth?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“If you’re not here for the synth, then you are here for me. What. Do you. Want?” The Courser punctuated the last sentence to iterate his point.

There were still bangs on the door as the rest of the group tried to get in; Hancock likely throwing his weight against it, shooting at it, and Cait probably using the gauntlet to try to punch through the metal. But it wouldn’t budge. Danse and MacCready, however, stood behind her silently, though their guns were raised and aimed at the Courser.

“I need what’s in your head.”

The man’s eyes narrowed a little and he gave a slight cock of his head; that alone sent shivers up her spine. He was like a snake – unpredictable, likely venomous, but blending in with the rest of the environment until he was ready to strike when you got too close.

That was fucking terrifying.

“That, you cannot have,” he said simply. He gave her no time to respond or react after that, instead raising his rifle and firing at her; but before the blue beam hit her, she felt another tug on the back of her vault suit and she was yanked back, then tossed to the side and out of the line of fire like a goddamn ragdoll. Fucking Danse.

But then the Courser just… vanished.

That was bad. That was _really_ fucking bad.

Nora slid across the ground as both Danse and MacCready were firing their guns at where a slight shimmer gave away the Courser’s location, and she quickly brought herself to her feet to join in. The stealth boy didn’t hide him completely even as he moved away from the shots, and Mac’s sniper eyes were able to stay on him for the most part.

“Boss, he’s moving left!” She glanced around, just barely catching the reflecting light as the Courser disappeared around the middle barrier – but she lost it after a second. She shot her plasma rifle once in that direction, though it didn’t seem to hit anything but the wall.

“Fuck! Mac, I can’t see him! Danse?” she yelled, and she braved a glance over to the two men who were also searching.

“Negative,” Danse answered.

“Nothing,” Mac echoed.

Where the hell had the damn thing gone? She moved forward a bit, her eyes keeping still in one spot so she’d be able to spot a shimmer somewhere – but when she rounded the tree toward the beginning of the staircase, that was when she felt a hand grip her around the throat, holding her in the air and pushing her back against the wall so her feet no longer touched the ground. The vaultie’s air was cut off immediately and her eyes went wide, the skin around her throat sinking in beneath the invisible Courser’s grip.

“Parker!” Danse’s baritone voice echoed in the room as he yelled, and he tried to angle himself so he could shoot without hitting her, but neither knew for sure where the courser’s body was at. Her face was turning blue, however, and she used one hand to grab the wrist that was on her throat while her other hand swiped in front of her, trying to find the Courser’s face; even her legs kicked out, attempting to land a kick on his body as his hand began squeezing tighter, but she had no luck at first – at least until she kicked out to the side and landed a hit against his side, showing he was holding her from an angle.

Clever. He expected her companions to shoot at him blindly and instead just kill her for him.

Nora kicked at his side again, though it was much weaker, until a bullet was sunk into the back of his skull and exited through his forehead, penetrating the wall right beside her and leaving a splash of blood onto the side of her face. The Courser dropped to the ground, lifeless, and she fell onto her hands and knees coughing and gasping for breath. She lifted a hand to her throat, unzipping her vault suit a bit and pulling it down to her collarbone so she didn’t feel like she was suffocating from it anymore.

Danse was at her side in a moment, his gun on the ground as he wrapped metal-clad fingers around one of her arms. “Parker, are you alright?” She was still gasping and coughing but she nodded her head, trying to tell him she was okay without speaking just yet.

The door that had barricaded the rest of her team outside finally opened after MacCready messed with a button near it and Dogmeat was the first to shove himself inside, lunging at her and immediately lapping his tongue at her face once he knew she was okay.

Hancock came in directly after, coming to her side and crouching down across from Danse. “Fuck, sister. What the hell happened?”

Nora’s hand went to her canine friend, shaky fingers rubbing the top of his head while MacCready approached. “He shut and locked the door. I’unno. Guy was a bit—I mean, guy was a pain to take down. Almost took out our illustrious vault dweller over here.” She shot him a glare, but he only gave her a cocky smirk. “But, thanks to me, she’s alive. I won’t hold my breath for the applause or thank you cards.”

“Yeh, ‘cuz ya won’t be gettin’ anything,” Cait replied.

“Um, excuse me?” The soft voice came from the other side of the room. “I could use a little help over here.” Everyone turned their attention over to where the shuttered window had been, now seeing it open; a woman stood on the other side, her eyes full of terror and wide open. Nora held a hand up as Danse turned to look back at her and he pulled her to her feet, which she then slowly approached the window to peer in at the woman, being sure not to frighten her.

“He… he deserved to die,” the woman added. Nora just nodded her head in agreement. “I know you’re not here for me, but…” she paused as she wrung her hands, “I can’t get out. Not on my own.”

“Who are you?” the vaultie finally asked, though her voice was raspy. She felt like she’d just swallowed a bunch of nails – there would certainly be bruises on her neck for a while.

The woman hesitated before answering. “We’ll talk once you open the door. I promise I won’t run.”

A soft hand touched the side of her arm as Preston came up behind her and held out a piece of paper, the password for the door written on it. He’d taken the liberty of grabbing whatever was valuable or worth something within the pockets of each dead body in the room – good.

“Thanks, Preston,” she whispered before going to the terminal and typing in the password. The door opened and the woman slowly appeared in front of her; she was reluctant, of course – not that Nora could blame her – and there was still terror in her expression, but she looked a bit more relaxed, perhaps feeling slightly safer now that she was able to leave the storage room prison she’d been confined to. Nora could definitely relate.

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t just leave you in there.”

The woman looked down for a moment, thinking, before looking back up and glancing nervously at the rest of the team, then just focused on Nora herself. “My… Institute designation is K1-98, but I prefer Jenny.” Danse sneered and Jenny almost cowered away. “So, yeah, I’m a synth if you haven’t already guessed. I… I knew they’d send a courser. I just didn’t think he’d find me so fast. I think I would have lost him, too, but then I was captured by these… mercenaries. And all this happened.”

“I understand,” Nora replied, nodding her head. She could hear Danse uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot behind her, dying to make a snide remark, but he was holding back.

“Thanks again for your help. I’m going to look for supplies before heading out. And before you ask, no, I don’t need any more help.” Jenny’s determination made Nora smile, however. “The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I need to make it on my own or I’m dead.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again, under better circumstances. I… hope we do.”

“I hope we do, too, Jenny. And hey, listen, if you run across a settlement that’s under Minutemen protection, you’re welcome to stay there. Make a home out of it. We’re always looking for new people.”

That made the synth smile wide, her cheeks tinting a bit red. “Thanks,” she whispered before turning around – but then stopped and turned back once more. “Um, before I go… what’s your name?”

Nora allowed a grin to spread across her face. “Nora. Nora Parker. I’m the General of the Minutemen.”

Jenny’s cheeks turned even redder and she bit her lower lip. “Well, thank you again, Nora Parker. I hope we meet again soon.” And with that, she was gone.

When Nora’s eyes looked to her companions, everyone seemed to have different expressions. Cait was grinning, obviously approving of the flirtatiousness; Hancock was staring at Cait and grinning, approving of Cait’s approval, weirdly enough; Preston’s eyebrows were raised and his cheeks were slightly flushed but he kept his gaze on the ground; MacCready had his lips pursed while he stared off in the direction of where the synth woman went; and Danse was _scowling_. Though not for the same reason as he would have scowled before.

She knew he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“She was a _synth_ ,” the paladin growled, “And you let her go!?” The grin on Nora’s face faded and she stared up at Danse; the rest of her companions slinked away from him. “How could you let her go, Parker? She’s an _abomination._ She’s _dangerous._ ”

“Yeah? And?” Danse stared at her with disbelief and his mouth opened before snapping shut; Nora just shook her head. “This was _my_ mission, Danse. I handled it how I saw fit and that was _my_ call. You don’t get to berate me for doing what I thought was right.”

“How can you call yourself a Brotherhood soldier if you allow _synths_ to walk free?”

But that was the wrong move, and maybe Danse realized it after Nora slowly began moving toward him, eyes narrowed; it was the same sort of prowling she’d done to Arthur when she was threatening him about what would happen if he killed Virgil. The paladin tipped his head up and made himself taller, being sure he towered over her much smaller frame while in his power armor – which he did even when _outside_ of it.

“You don’t get to use that against me, Danse. You want to run and tell Arthur I let a synth go free after she was trapped in a storage closet like a fucking animal? You go right ahead. Feel free to add one more thing to the Elder’s plate so he can get pushed closer to the edge of jumping off the goddamn Prydwen and taking the entire Brotherhood with him.”

She watched his jaw tense beneath the scruff on his face. “That’s manipulative, Nora.”

“Yeah, it is. And so is trying to insinuate I’m not loyal to the fucking Brotherhood just because I decided not to kill an unarmed woman for the sole reason that she wasn’t fully human. Now, are you done questioning me, _paladin?”_

The two stared at one another for a long time before Preston cleared his throat beside them. “General,” he said gently, “I think we should start heading back.”

But unlike usual, Nora was the first to back down – then again, it wasn’t really backing down, more so saying they’d continue it later. “Alright. Did you get the chip, Mac?”

“Ugh, yeah, I got it. I’m never doing that again.”

Her eyes finally broke from Danse’s and her expression changed completely – a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Well, that’s what you get for farting all the way here.”


	30. Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One of the benefits of you being twenty-two is you can go over and over and over again and I plan to take advantage of that.” The mercenary grinned wide at her words and let his thumb roll over the head of his cock, making himself shiver. “During our second go, you’re gonna fuck me from behind as hard as you can. I don’t wanna feel my legs tomorrow.”
> 
> “I think I can do that,” he said.

She was _supposed_ to go back to the Prydwen immediately after the mission was completed to hand over the Courser chip and debrief with her superiors; and considering Danse had used his comm unit in his power armor to inform Kells they had successfully finished, they – including Arthur – were undoubtedly expecting them to be back on the ship by nightfall.

But Nora had other plans.

They traveled back to Goodneighbor, though Preston had decided to head back to Sanctuary instead and took Dogmeat with him, leaving them as a group of five rather than seven. Which was fine, because they could still have fun. Well, maybe not with Danse because the paladin kept sulking and glaring at everyone since he and Nora had fought back at Greenetech Genetics, as well as because of the fact he wasn’t happy they weren’t going back to the ship until the morning. She’d said she had some business to attend to – but he probably knew what that meant. He should have, by now, at least.

“You got a room or are we gonna fuck right here?” Nora asked as she was straddling MacCready’s lap in the VIP lounge of the Third Rail. Cait and Hancock had abandoned them not long ago when they started getting touchy feely, and Danse hadn’t even joined them for a drink but instead went straight to the Rexford to pout because he was a big fucking baby.

Mac’s lips were on her neck, kissing and licking the bruises that had formed there from the Courser grabbing her earlier, as if the actions would somehow heal them. His hands groped her ass while she was grinding herself down on him, and her fingers were threaded into his hair.

She definitely had a thing for touching hair.

“Mm. Yeah, I gotta room. Hancock keeps one for me. Wanna head up now?” he asked against her skin.

“Fuck yes, let’s go.” The vaultie stood and pulled Mac to his feet, but he shoved his hand down his pants to adjust himself so it wasn’t as obvious he had a raging boner as he followed her out of the VIP lounge and to the stairs that led to the bar’s exit. They gave a small wave to Hancock and Cait before disappearing out of the bar and went straight to the Rexford.

Unlike the last two times they fucked, neither were drunk – which, thankfully, made the mercenary a bit of a better kisser; less wet and sloppy, which Nora certainly noticed and appreciated. It was a fact she filed away for later, too.

When they got to the door of his room, she immediately had her hands on him as he was unlocking it. She undid his belt and dropped it to the floor with a loud _clank_ before yanking his duster off his shoulders, dropping that on the floor, as well. 

“Slow down there, tiger,” he said while a laugh escaped his throat, a hand holding his pants up as Nora started to fiddle with the button. “Don’t get me naked before we even get in the room!” But the moment he finally got the door opened, he stumbled inside, and she kicked his belt and duster in, letting them slide across the floor before she entered and slammed the wooden door shut behind her. The vault dweller pushed him down onto the bed on his back before she climbed atop him and straddled his hips, grinding herself down on him again. He’d went soft during their trip from the bar to the room, but she found it _very_ easy to get him hard again.

Mac’s hands went to the zipper of her vault suit, pulling it down as far as it would go and then pushing the suit off her shoulders and down to her hips. He quickly undid her bra, as well, pulling it off and tossing it to the side as he sat up and let his lips meet her freckled chest. A pebbled nipple was sucked into his mouth and Nora sighed at the feeling, though she yanked his scarf from around his neck and tossed it over her shoulder, then went for his shirt right after, pulling it up and over his head, which forced him to pull away from her chest and lift his arms so he could get it off, then she tossed that away, too.

But before he had the chance to reattach himself to her chest, she slid her way down his legs and started fiddling with the button on his pants again, then yanked them down his hips and legs. When they got to his calves, she pulled his boots off and threw them to the side, uncaring of where they landed, and did the same to his pants before crawling back up his body to sit by his knees. Royal blue eyes looked him up and down as he laid there, naked, his cock hard and pressed up against his stomach – at least until he reached a hand down and grasped it, slowly stroking himself. Nora bit her lower lip and tried to suppress a grin. “It is so weird that you don’t wear underwear but god, you are hot as hell.”

Mac snorted a laugh in response as his free hand propped a pillow up beneath his head, his arm then joining the pillow while he kept stroking his cock and watching her. “So, hotshot, what are your plans for tonight?”

The grin she was trying to suppress finally spread across her face before she pushed the rest of her vault suit and her underwear down her hips, kicking off her boots in the process and joining him in the nude. “Well, first,” she began as she leaned down to place a trail of kisses up one of his thighs, “I’m going to suck your dick.”

Mac made a soft noise as he stroked himself, his eyes on her. “Yea? What else?” He’d said he wasn’t good at dirty talk, but he sure was trying.

When her lips trailed up to his groin, she moved to his other thigh and started trailing kisses up that one, too, in the same spots she had on the first. “Then, I’m going to ride you until we both cum.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. After that, we’re gonna rest for, mmm, maybe twenty minutes.”

“Hm. Lemme guess – we’re gonna go again after that?”

“Oh, yes, we are. One of the benefits of you being twenty-two is you can go over and over and over again and I plan to take advantage of that.” The mercenary grinned wide and let his thumb roll over the head of his cock, making himself shiver. “During our second go, you’re gonna fuck me from behind as hard as you can. I don’t wanna feel my legs tomorrow.”

“I think I can do that,” he said.

“Good,” she replied before her face was over his cock. His hand stopped stroking and he angled it up for her just as she took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue along the bottom of it. Mac took a sharp inhale at the feeling and pulled his hand away.

“Shhhhit, Nora.” The vaultie took him deeper, slowly sliding more of his cock into her mouth – taking some in before pulling back, then taking in a bit more before pulling back again, and repeating this until the head was pressed against the back of her throat and her nose was buried in his groin. “Oh, fuck, jesus, god, fuck, yes, shit,” he groaned, and Nora had to keep herself from laughing since he was pressing into her throat before sliding him out and bobbing her head up and down.

The hand that had originally been holding his cock slid into her hair – he didn’t grab or pull, though, but instead just ran his fingers through the red locks, which was a much different action than what she was used to. Arthur always grabbed and pulled, or at least grabbed and held it tightly. Mac hadn’t touched her hair the other times they had sex, but now that he was, he wasn’t trying to yank or pull it or even guide her head while she sucked his cock. Instead, he was letting her go at her own pace and sort of _praising her_ by running his fingers through it.

It was… different. She wasn’t sure if she preferred being grabbed or not.

One of her hands raised and went to the back of his that was in her hair, their fingers lining together as she curled them and made him grab a handful of the red locks – which he obliged. His bright blue eyes stared down at her for a moment as if he were debating on whether he wanted to do it before he readjusted his grip and then started pushing her head down more.

Oh, yeah, the grabbing was better.

Nora gagged around him and he held her there for a moment, moaning at the feeling before letting her up for air and sliding himself out completely, though he didn’t release her hair.

“Gotta admit, hotshot, I wasn’t sure you were into this,” he said with a grin.

Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip before she grinned back, cheeks tinted slightly pink. “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t make assu—” But before she was even able to finish her sentence, Mac shoved her head back down and his cock was at the back of her throat again, suddenly gagging her once more.

“Oooh, _fuck,_ that feels so goddamn good,” he groaned.

He let her up again and she began to cough, her face a bit redder than before; but she shot him a glare once she finished coughing. “That was very ru—” And his cock was forced down her throat again, cutting her sentence off.

“Mmm fuck. This seems like a good way to get you to stop bitching at me, huh?” He let her up again and took in the sight of her beet red face as she coughed from being choked. Her eyes were watery as she glared up at him, her mouth opening to say something snarky but instead it just snapped shut, and Mac couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. “Get up here,” he ordered as he pulled her up by her hair.

Nora crawled up his body and straddled his hips, his free arm moving out from behind his head and his hand snaking between her legs to dip a finger into her soaking pussy; but she pushed his arm away, his finger sliding out in the process. “Just fuck me.”

Mac studied her face for a second, trying to figure out why she didn’t want him to help stretch her first – because he knew she’d feel a burn if he went in without doing so – but her expression revealed nothing; she was like stone. Instead, he let go of her hair and she straightened herself atop his hips before reaching down between them and grasping his cock, then sliding the head into her. The vaultie eased him in, sinking down some before raising, then sinking down a bit more before raising again; and after doing this a few times, he was hilted and their hips were locked, leaving her panting and leaning forward with her palms on his bare chest.

“You alright?” he asked, his hands stroking up and down her thighs.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she answered. Her hips began to roll against him after a second and he reached one of his hands up to palm her breasts; but when he bucked himself up into her as she was grinding against him, her body jolted and she made a small, gasping moan, which he immediately took notice of.

A grin spread across his face once again. “Oh, yeah? What happened there?”

“Mm. Don’t worry about it; mind your own business.”

“Pretty sure my dick being buried inside you actually is my business.” The hand that was on her breast moved down between her legs, his thumb rubbing quick circles on her clit. He bucked his hips up again, though, and her body jolted once more as she let out a gasping moan like before.

“Mmmmnope, it’s not,” she breathed.

“You’re sure it’s not my business _at all?”_ he asked as his thumb began moving faster and her legs began to tremble, which told him she was getting close.

“Yeah, I’m – _fuck_ – sure it’s – _mmm_ – not.”

“Well, if you’re _absolutely sure,_ ” he said. And just as soon as he felt her starting to tighten around him, right on the edge of her orgasm, he pulled his hand away from her clit and lifted her hips so his cock slid out. “Then I guess I’ll stop.” Nora’s eyes grew wide, though, and she went to reach down between her legs, but Mac pushed her back on the bed to where she was lying on her back between his thighs, her legs hooked over his. He caught her wrists and pinned them against her stomach as he shifted so he was sitting on his knees.

“No!” she gasped, “Let me cum!”

He grinned wider. “Don’t think so, hotshot. I’m in charge here, so what I say goes. And I say you don’t get to cum yet.”

The look on her face showed pure disappointment and frustration as her orgasm began receding. She whined, but he used one hand to pin both wrists, the other going to his cock to guide himself back into her and sinking in completely. Nora moaned beneath him and he returned his thumb to her clit, rubbing fast circles while he began pumping in and out. It didn’t take long for her legs to start trembling again – an obvious sign to how close she was to her climax – since he hadn’t given her much time between when her orgasm faded and when he started building her up once more. But as soon as he knew she was about to tip over that edge, he pulled out and pulled his hand away from her clit, but kept her wrists pinned.

“No, no, no, Mac!” she whined, her hips wiggling and trying to get any type of friction.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone clearly mocking her.

Nora huffed beneath him with furrowed eyebrows as her orgasm faded once again, but he immediately pushed himself back into her and returned his thumb to her clit with those fast circles. Her moans started growing louder every time she got close and her entire body began trembling rather than just her legs; but when he pulled away for the third time, she was starting to lose patience.

“Damnit, Mac!” she growled, and her arms started pushing against his hands. He kept holding her down, however, and she began thrashing beneath him. “Just let me fucking cum!”

“Nice try, but no,” he said with a low laugh, as if he found her pain fucking hilarious, “You’re being too demanding.”

Despite her struggling, however, he sank back into her, and she let out a relieved moan from her throat since the friction of it was just _something_. RJ went back to rubbing her clit and her breathing became ragged the closer she got. She wanted to cum so bad, she _needed_ to cum – but he wasn’t giving it to her.

And when he pulled away again, for the fourth time, she felt like she was going to explode.

“Please, Mac. Please, please, please. Please let me cum. I wanna cum so bad.”

“You sure about that? Doesn’t sound like it.” Her hips were flexing as she was trying to grind against _anything_ but was only grinding into the air, and, just like before when he noticed her urge to orgasm was gone, he sunk back in and started rubbing her clit again.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes. Please let me cum. Oh, god, yes. Please, Mac. Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” The words came out in breaths as he was pounding into her, his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles. She was so close – so goddamn _close_. If only she could keep her legs from trembling, he might not be able to tell just how close she was – oh _fuck_ —

She thought she was about to tip over the edge; she was right there! But he pulled away again and she was about to fucking _cry._ “Please, Mac. I’ll do anything. Please, just let me cum. Oh god, fuck, _please_.”

“Anything, huh?”

“Yes, yes, anything. Anything you want, baby. Anything at all. Just please let me cum. Please. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Hmm. Alright. I want you to scream my name when you cum – I want everyone in Goodneighbor to hear who it is that’s doing this to you.”

“Yes, okay, yes. Whatever you want. Just let me cum!”

MacCready grinned and leaned down to press his lips to hers in a rough kiss, his hand guiding the head of his cock to her entrance before he just rammed himself all the way in. She broke the kiss to release a loud moan, her hips canting and toes curling. He sat back on his knees, his hand returning to her clit to rub fast circles again, hips pulling out and pushing back in with a quick and rough pace, pounding into her.

Nora’s entire body began to tremble and her eyes rolled up a bit as she was so close – _so fucking close_ – and when she came, she fucking _screamed._ Her voice bounced up and down with each thrust he made, making _’MacCready’_ sound like a tremor when she screamed it. He didn’t let up and her moans must have egged him on because he kept fucking her, trying to pound into her harder as he sought his own orgasm – and it only took a few more moments of fucking her pulsing cunt, feeling it squeeze and release around him over and over again before he was finally at the edge.

Quickly, he pulled out, grabbing himself and stroking until he came with hot spurts of seed on her belly. “Ooh, fuck, Nora,” he groaned.

They were both panting as she laid on the bed still beneath him, boneless from the intensity of her orgasm with closed eyes. But he stood and went over to the dresser, grabbing a cloth and wiping himself off before going to her and wiping her off, as well, though only cleaning her belly – not even daring to try to do so between her legs since he could almost _see_ her pulsing.

Mac tossed the cloth on the floor before climbing onto the bed and pulling her to where her head was by the pillows rather than by the foot of the mattress. She let him and didn’t seem to care – that or she couldn’t even protest if she tried. But he pulled her against his side, letting her head rest on his chest while she draped her leg over one of his and her arm over his stomach.

After a few minutes of relaxing so their breathing calmed, he leaned over to kiss the top of her head, feeling how wet her hair was from sweat. “Good?” he asked. Nora just barely nodded her head. “Good. Because I don’t think I can go again,” he admitted, but his tone was teasing. Nora only groaned in response.

Yeah, she wouldn’t be able to go again, either.


	31. Black Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was destroying her, like a fucking black hole – sucking her in and tearing her apart once she was close enough; and god fucking damnit was she close enough. She’d been close enough for a while now, and he kept scratching at her exterior, tearing off piece after piece of her shell so the only thing that existed any longer was the soft tissue beneath the surface that he could keep gnawing on like a goddamn chew toy until there was literally nothing left.
> 
> But would he?

Nora never left MacCready’s room like she’d originally intended to but instead stayed with him, curled against his side with her head on his chest and worn out from the night before. At least, that was the case until the morning woke them.

Well, not so much the morning as the sound of a fist banging on the door _in_ the morning.

Mac stirred first, grumbling something beneath his breath and throwing an arm over his face so his eyes were covered by the pit of his elbow. But about a minute later, more banging vibrated the room and he sighed with irritation, conceding to whoever was pounding on his door like they were going to bust in. He pulled away from Nora to search for his pants, both still being naked from last night and neither having the energy nor care to even dress after getting so worn out. Which explained why she didn’t even stir when there was a third set of banging from the fist on his door, either.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your fu—frickin’ brahmin.”

The mercenary snatched his pants from the floor and pulled them on, moving to the door as he was buttoning and zipping them, then opening the barrier to reveal who was on the other side. It was sort of expected, or maybe it just wasn’t a surprise, to find Danse there with a scowl on his face. He was outside his power armor, however, and just stood in his orange jumpsuit – and even still, his presence loomed.

Mac yawned and rubbed at his eyes, unfazed by the paladin’s intimidation techniques. “Whatcha want, tin can?”

══════════════════

It made no sense what Nora saw in this man – he was childish, disobedient, rude, and a miscreant. Hell, even as he gave the mercenary a look over with narrowed eyes and an upturned lip, the action full of judgment and irritation – considering the younger man had answered the door in just his pants and nothing else – he couldn’t help but think even his physical appearance was nothing of what Nora seemed attracted to.

Their relationship – or whatever it was – made absolutely no sense.

MacCready was thin, clearly underweight since his ribs poked out from beneath pale skin; the little amount of muscle he had was likely from just being in the wasteland and surviving, and nothing more – which was the main piece of the puzzle. Nora was with someone like Arthur, a man who spent years on his physique and was built like a brick wall; and her description of her late husband was how he was a mix of muscle and fat, bulky and ‘built like a professional wrestler,’ whatever that meant; and she’d even shown an interest in Danse’s appearance, and he was tall and muscular and lean. But what in the world attracted her to this tiny cave dweller in front of him?

“Knight Parker and I must return to the Prydwen,” he said matter-of-factly.

Mac yawned again with disinterest and Danse now understood why Arthur wanted to throw the kid off the flight deck. The mercenary pushed the door open to be much wider, his hand then motioning over to the bed where Nora was sleeping and now in the paladin’s view. She was still naked from last night but the blanket was covering only from her hips and below while her upper body was twisted to lean over to where Mac had been lying beside her, her chest hidden – except a bit of side-boob, that is – against the bed. Her eyes were closed as she kept snoozing despite how hard Danse had banged on the door three separate times.

“Be my guest and wake her,” MacCready offered.

The paladin’s face went red with frustration, embarrassment, and anger as he stared at her sleeping form, his jaw tensing despite the constant reminder in the back of his head of Cade scolding him for doing it. But his brown eyes flicked over to the mercenary to see a sleepy smirk and Danse couldn’t help but let the scowl on his face deepen. He partially wondered if he’d start looking like Arthur if he kept the feature up for too long.

“Please wake Knight Parker and inform her we need to be on the Prydwen by 0800.” And with that, he turned and went back to his room, needing to get away from the kid before the situation got worse.

══════════════════

The vertibird ride to the Prydwen was quiet. Danse sat in his power armor on the floor of the ‘bird while Nora had her back leaned against his metal-clad arm, eyes closed so she didn’t have to see the Commonwealth below while it drifted further and further into the distance. She’d mostly grown used to being so high in the air, thankfully, but there was still the occasional turn in her stomach that she really didn’t want to feel right now.

MacCready had shown interest in coming with her to the Prydwen but Nora declined the offer. She knew why he wanted to go – she remembered the smirk on his lips when she’d walked into the room after seeing Arthur glaring at him; she knew that, after last night, he’d somehow _’accidentally’_ bring up how he made her scream his name and go boneless from such an intense orgasm after edging her and _somehow_ manage to say it right in front of Arthur. There was no doubt he’d seen the way the Elder looked at her – Mac wasn’t stupid and he certainly wasn’t blind; and with how Arthur spoke to her the morning she and Mac left, after she’d told the mercenary about her dream with how she saw Arthur instead of Kellogg? He knew. They both knew of each other.

There was nothing real between her and Mac, though; it was just sex – that, she could confirm. They flirted all the time and played around, but it was clear his heart belonged to another – and hers did, too. Their love for past ghosts who haunted them was something they never talked about to anyone, let alone to one another, as it was almost an unspoken agreement. When they were together, though, they didn’t need to talk – all they needed to do was fight or fuck. And that was just fine with her.

With Mac, it really was just sex – but that was not the case with Arthur.

Because when she saw those sky blue eyes staring down at her on the observation deck, the clear concern behind them as he silently studied the bruises on her neck – the ones where fingers had pressed hard enough to choke her, almost making her pass out – she knew it hadn’t been just sex for a long time.

Maybe it never was.

But the Elder kept his composure as he usually did, only having eyed the bruises from a distance before forcing himself to look away and turn his gaze to Danse. The paladin was explaining what happened during the mission; how there were Gunners and they fought through wave after wave until reaching the top of the building where the Courser was. He explained how they retrieved the chip, then held it out for Ingram to take – in which the woman certainly did with a grin.

“This is great. I’ll get to work on decoding it right away.”

Nora expected them to be done; she expected Arthur to dismiss them all and she’d go take a hot shower and wait for him to call her into his quarters later on to ask about the bruises, only to want sex where she’d deny him because she had the fucking willpower to do so. At least, she hoped she did.

But Arthur never did what she wanted him to do; he’d proven that time and time again.

“Was there anything else you wanted to tell me, paladin?”

Nora’s eyebrows furrowed at the question and her head turned, looking to Arthur and then to Danse, seeing them staring at one another as the paladin refused to look at her. Arthur must have known something about Jenny – he _had_ to have known something about Jenny – otherwise he wouldn’t have just _asked_ that question, would he?

She and Danse had gotten fairly close, specifically after the few days following the… ah, situation in the shower. They talked a lot and got to know one another; addressed the kiss, spoke about what happened, and even admitted some feelings – Danse said he felt strongly for her and Nora said she wasn’t sure what she felt for him, but that she felt _something_. In the end, both admitted they only wanted to be friends. Danse, because he deemed himself unworthy of her affection – though he didn’t admit that to her – and because he hadn’t wanted to step on the toes of his superior officer and best friend; and Nora, because she was still stuck in a time before the war with her husband and son and was even trying to fix a man who seemed to want to remain broken forever.

So, they talked and became close and began to understand each other more. 

It didn’t matter if they fought – because Danse would never turn on her, even if what she did was something he deeply disapproved of. Not like this, at least.

“No, sir,” he answered flatly, though his eyes never left Arthur’s. Nora’s gaze flicked back to the Elder and he seemed to stare at Danse for a long moment before nodding his head.

“Very well. Dismissed.”

Immediately, Nora turned on her heels, attempting to flee the scene before she was stopped – Arthur was unpredictable, and if he’d asked a question he had no business asking, there was a high chance he’d stop her and tell her to stay behind rather than let her leave and talk later.

He remained unpredictable, of course.

The vaultie was almost to the ladder when he called for her, a sharp _’Knight Parker’_ that made her freeze in her tracks and curse beneath her breath. She took a deep inhale before pasting a small smile on her lips, then turned to face him, stepping away from the ladder but not approaching. His eyes studied her face from the distance, searching for something as his lips downturned into a frown.

He shouldn’t frown so much – he was too beautiful. Even with — _especially with_ — that fucking lopsided smile only she saw sometimes when they were alone.

“Come here.” His tone didn’t signify it was an order but more of a request, and that was unusual; something she was unsure she wanted to grant. Danse and Ingram had both went back up the ladder and now it was just the two of them – aside from Kells and the lancers below, of course. But she knew he wouldn’t try anything here, and whatever he’d say to her that was usually between them in private would be just barely heard, nowhere near loud enough for anyone else who might be eavesdropping.

“I’m fine right here, Elder.” She denied the request and the look on his face showed he was displeased with it. A man who was not used to making requests but instead giving orders didn’t appreciate the rare occasion he _did_ request something getting thrown in his face?

Good.

“Nora.” His voice was lower, and it made her jaw tense. It told her he was one more sentence away from forgetting the request and ordering her to approach him – but that had never made a difference to her before, so why he thought the warning would even work now was beyond her.

“Elder Maxson, if you’ll excuse me—”

“I said come here, Nora.” His words were snapped, her name rolling off his tongue and flying through the air, doing backflips through hoops like acrobats did before the world was destroyed by men who were much older than Arthur but who held the same amount of ambition he did.

Nora tipped her chin up, thinking. The tone he’d used even sounded like the one he utilized with her in the bedroom – short, snappy, and to the point. She hated when he did that. Then again, she had a habit of saying _’yes, sir’_ and _’no, sir’_ to him at the most inconvenient times, so perhaps this was only fair.

Complying, the vault dweller took slow steps forward until she was finally standing directly in front of him, her head tipped back just slightly to look up to his face. He was so much taller than her – then again, most of the men on this damned ship were, and even most of the women, considering she was only five-feet-two-inches. His presence always loomed; intimidating, threatening, dominant. But not once did he ever scare her with it no matter how hard he’d tried in the beginning.

The Elder slowly raised his hand to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his movements hesitant as if he was unsure he wanted to do what he was about to do, or he thought she might flinch if he went too fast. But she remained still and when he tipped her head up more and moved it from side-to-side to inspect the bruises, her eyes closed. She’d let him worry over her with the hopes he would realize he was feeling something right then – worrying over her wellbeing and condition, over the bruises on her neck that showed where large fingers had pressed much too hard into her skin.

“Where did you get these?” he asked. His voice was quiet, and the tone was something she didn’t often hear – something he might have only reserved for her, now that she thought about it. That hurt; he might as well have stabbed her in the fucking gut.

“The Courser,” she answered simply. This conversation needed to be over with. He’d made his decision and needed to stick with it; he couldn’t keep pushing her away and pulling her back in. It was unfair. He was destroying her, like a fucking black hole – sucking her in and tearing her apart once she was close enough; and god fucking damnit was she close enough. She’d been close enough for a while now, and he kept scratching at her exterior, tearing off piece after piece of her shell so the only thing that existed any longer was the soft tissue beneath the surface that he could keep gnawing on like a goddamn chew toy until there was literally nothing left.

But would he?

His hand left her chin and the backs of his fingers brushed the bruise where the Courser’s thumb had been. His eyebrows furrowed silently, the familiar crease between them above an aquiline nose greeting her in an almost comforting way.

He cared. He had to. He could deny it all he wanted – he could say he didn’t have emotions, but she knew it was a fucking lie, especially after she witnessed what a Courser was like. The man – no, the _boy_ – staring at her now with a frown on his face that wasn’t from disgust or anger, but from worry, showed who he really was; it showed the Arthur Maxson he’d been forced to bury deep down since he was so young. Beneath the beard he grew to make himself look older – it certainly worked – and beneath the stress in his face that creased his forehead and the scars on his skin, he was still just a boy. The first time she’d seen him, she was surprised he held the rank of ‘elder’; then again, she figured most people had that same reaction. But he spoke like a true leader who believed in his mission and had the experience to back it up – that experience being one of a child soldier’s.

Yet, he’d never looked younger than when he admitted he cared for the people of the Commonwealth. Even after she’d made sexual remarks and caught the barely-visible smirk on his face and the slight blush that crept up from beneath his beard, he’d still managed to look like the boy he tried to pretend he wasn’t. His arms had dropped to his side, head tipped down just slightly, brows barely furrowed, voice lower – it was emotion whether he realized it or not.

Or was that, too, something he was groomed to do since childhood?

No – it was the true emotion. She’d seen the same look when they were alone.

“You should see Cade,” he said quietly, but Nora just shook her head to decline.

“No, I’m fine.”

His hand fell to his side though his stance relaxed – something not many others got to see from him. How could this man deny he felt something – felt something for _her_ – when he let his guard down so easily in her presence, as if it were a second instinct? When he’d turned his back to the Commonwealth and leaned against the railing on the forecastle, leaving himself open to being pushed to his death? 

“Why didn’t you report in after your mission like you were supposed to?” he asked.

Nora closed her eyes and tipped her head away, shaking it once more. “You know why, Arthur.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“Will you be onboard for a while?”

“I don’t want to be.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes.”

He raised a hand and scratched at his beard, something she learned he did when he was growing frustrated. Arthur must have come to recognize their game of tag – going back and forth, chasing one another for something neither of them were able nor willing to give at the same time. It was his turn to chase until, finally, Nora gave in to him, only for him to close off just as she approached with her arms wide open, falling flat and embracing the dirt.

“Come to bed tonight.” Another request – not an order. She wanted to decline it so badly, but she ached to sleep with him curved around her back. She fit perfectly into each nook and cranny of his body. Did he notice, too?

But this meant it must have been her turn to chase soon.

Nora didn’t answer at first and instead chewed the inside of her lower lip, thinking. If she went to him, he would likely push her away again. They’d fuck like they usually did, he’d do his aftercare – always so fucking intimate – and then he’d pull away and say he couldn’t give her what she wanted. She knew his routine; she’d seen him do it enough times to recite it to him as he was doing it, like an old prewar movie she’d watched thousands of times as a child and knew every word of.

“I don’t…” she began but paused, her eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We talked about this.”

“Just for sex. It’s been a while.”

A heavy sigh was released from her lungs and she raised her hand to rub her thumb and forefinger against her eyelids, trying to think over each option she had. She desperately wanted to decline but she was worried about what he might do. How would he react? Would he get upset and start destroying things again with another temper tantrum? Would he finally yell, which was just something he never did? Take it out on someone else? 

She wasn’t sure if he was fucking anyone other than her – she’d always assumed she was the only one, however. He definitely thought she’d slept with Danse, and she was certain he knew she was still fucking MacCready, too; but if he was asking her to his room for sex, it must have meant she was the only one he was taking to bed and he was desperate enough to ask her despite how she was spreading her legs for other people. Maybe she was the Commonwealth whore he’d accused her of being the first time they had sex – maybe that wasn’t actually role play.

He put far too much responsibility on her. She couldn’t handle his needs. And yet—

“Alright,” she said with another sigh. It had been a while since they’d had sex, so if she helped him by giving him a release – let him take out his frustrations and helped him fall asleep curled around her back, then perhaps he’d be less likely to break down and do something he’d regret, or even hurt himself again.

“I’ll see you tonight at 2100, then.”


	32. Lured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good thing he didn’t know he was mapping routes between marks on her skin that another man had mapped only twenty-four hours ago.
> 
> She wouldn’t tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter is intended to be uncomfortable. I debated putting a dub/con warning but I don't think it's necessary, which should become self-explanatory once you read it. If you disagree, please let me know and I can either throw the tag up with the appropriate content warning or try to make it more clear in my writing.

Nora paced outside his quarters, the tip of her index finger tapping the tip of her freckled nose as she moved back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Her boots would soon burn holes into the metal flooring from the tracks she’d set if she kept it up, but she knew if she stood still, she’d only have an even bigger internal argument with herself.

_I shouldn’t be here. I should have turned him down._

_No, if I turned him down then he would have done something stupid._

_That’s not true, Arthur has more self-control than that._

_Does he, though? He had a fucking temper tantrum a few days ago._

_Then again, that was after he thought I had sex with Danse._

Her free hand lifted to run her fingers through her hair. She was nervous – more nervous than the first time he’d called her into his quarters and made it clear he had different intentions than a debriefing of the mission. Well, more like a debriefing of _her_.

Damnit, Nora, this was not the time for fucking jokes.

Fucking jokes? Jokes about fucking.

_No._

Alright, she was leaving; it was settled. Whatever the fallout would be from not showing up, she’d accept it – she’d deal with it. If he wanted to seek her out in an hour, fine. If he wanted to reprimand her or throw her in the brig or even throw another temper tantrum like a fucking child, then so be it. But right now, she was leav—

“Are you coming in or not?” The bulkhead had opened behind her and she didn’t even hear it with her back to his quarters while she faced the ladder. Nora bristled at the familiar husky voice before she spun on her heels, staring up at the Elder with wide, doe-like eyes for a moment. He must have caught her hesitation. “You don’t have to, Nora. It wasn’t an order and it never will be. I would never force you to—”

She shoved past him – or, rather, ducked under his arm that was holding the door open because shoving past Arthur Maxson was just not a possibility for her since he was so goddamn _big,_ and she was just _not_ – and moved into the room. 

Maybe he was right, though – maybe turning him down would have been fine and he wouldn’t have been upset; maybe it wouldn’t have really even meant anything to him if she’d said no. After all, neither of them took sex as anything more than just that; it was only a way to let off some steam, really. So, if she’d turned him down, he wouldn’t have really been mad or upset… right? 

It wasn’t even that she didn’t want to have sex with him because _fuck yes_ she absolutely did — the man was a beast in bed and he made her feel like a fucking goddess every time — it was that she knew they were harming each other by continuing whatever the fuck it was they had going on. This game of tag or chase or whatever they were playing was getting old and exhausting, and she didn’t think she could take much more. He’d be the death of her or she the death of him. 

Nora had no idea what to expect when entering his room – more broken furniture? The same broken furniture from last time with a bunch of duct tape around it to hold it together? No, Arthur was too classy for that. Ah, new furniture. The chairs he’d smashed to pieces and the table he’d overturned were all missing, having been replaced with a new, matching set; and the trunk he’d emptied onto the floor just before slamming it into a wall was no longer there though nothing took its previous spot. Which was fine, because he didn’t even use the trunk, anyway, and there was only junk in it; junk she’d been randomly stuffing in there when he wasn’t around - a teddy bear with a missing eye; a handful of buttons; a toy Nuka-Cola truck; three more pumpkin candles that weren’t in glass holders; four other types of candles; two bowler hats just in case she lost her current one; three San Francisco Sunlights that had once belonged to Kellogg but she just couldn’t convince herself to dispose of them because Nate’s ghost would haunt her and yell at her about how those were _’quality fucking cigars, Nora’_ ; a deflated basketball; a queen from a chess table she’d found in a school; and a bunch of other items she’d picked up along the way. He never looked in the thing, so why not make use of it? Everyone needed a junk drawer.

Junk trunk. 

Oh.

Now that the trunk was gone, though, she assumed he’d thrown all the shit out. Which was fine. 

But the candle – the pumpkin candle she’d brought to his room however long ago was back on his nightstand. The original holder, a round glass piece, had shattered when he’d chucked it into the wall; she’d almost stepped in the shards when retrieving some stimpacks to help heal the burn on his arm. But now it sat inside a small glass cup with the gold flip-lighter she’d conveniently left on his desk placed beside it, followed by the three San Francisco Sunlights.

Fuck, her chest hurt.

“Arthur,” she began, her back still to him as she stared at the candle, “I don’t think—” But she was cut off as his familiar body was pressed against her from behind, his broad chest pushed into her back while one arm wrapped around her midsection and the other slid up to her collarbone, his hand resting just beneath her throat. He was smart enough to know not to grab her throat tonight; he wouldn’t make her relive what the Courser had done while the memory was still so raw. Plus, the bruises hurt.

Soft kisses were placed just beneath her ear and she sighed, her eyebrows furrowing while she tried to resist the temptation to give in and let this man – this beautiful, complicated, dangerous, _frustrating as hell_ man – fuck her until she couldn’t walk. It didn’t matter how good MacCready was at sex or at edging her until she was screaming his name when Arthur knew every space of her body and every single spot that made her shiver and tremble, even when she wished he didn’t because it was too goddamn emotionally painful.

And Nora was a huge fucking ball of emotions.

Arthur unwrapped his arm from her waist and instead slipped his hand between her legs, his palm grinding against her through her clothes. She made a soft noise but held her ground, resisting the want – the _need_ – to give in. Nora could feel his beard against the side of her neck, his hot breath exhaling into the shell of her ear, wordlessly begging her to submit to him. She wanted to beg back, _please, just let me go; I can’t keep doing this with you, it’s driving me insane._ But instead, the vaultie found herself pushing back against his body and that seemed to be what he was waiting for. The Elder spun her around to face him, the hand that had been between her legs now on her ass, palming and groping, while the one that had been on her collarbone having instead slid up and into her hair, grabbing a fistful of the red locks.

Their lips met as he pulled her into a deep kiss that she desperately wanted to lose herself in and escape from at the same time. Every touch of his lips, his fingers, his body on hers was like a fire that radiated through her veins; it threatened to burn her alive and she was stuck between wanting to avoid the flames at all costs and wanting to dive in head-first, ready to sacrifice herself to whatever god they worshipped.

But, of course, that god was Arthur fucking Maxson, and Nora knew she’d sacrifice herself a thousand times over if it meant she could fit into his body for another night without hating herself come morning.

The Elder began undoing the belts and buckles of her jumpsuit as her hands went palms-flat to his chest, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care she’d opted to wear something Brotherhood-appropriate. Chances were he did, in fact, notice, but chose not to comment. Still, the jumpsuit was pushed down to her hips all the same, exposing her upper body and bra to him. He pulled her head back with a yank of her hair, garnering a gasp from her throat at the same time his lips traveled to her neck, kissing and licking the bruises just like… well, just like MacCready had done the night before.

Good thing he didn’t know he was mapping routes between marks on her skin that another man had mapped only twenty-four hours ago.

She wouldn’t tell him.

Arthur moved them toward the table, forcing her to take steps back until she felt the edge of it hit her ass. His hands pushed her suit and underwear down to mid-thigh before he hoisted her up and onto the piece of furniture so she was sitting on its edge, the legs slightly creaking under the added weight. Her hair was then released and she took the chance to lean back on her hands, forcing him to lean over her more; but he reached behind her, unclasping her bra and delicately slipping it off her shoulders and down her arms, then tossing it to the side.

The lips she’d dreamed of kissing each and every morning and night trailed down her body, stopping just beneath her navel while he took the time to tug her boots off and peel the rest of her clothes away, leaving her bare in front of him. And as she sat naked on his new table, being the first to put her bare ass and wet cunt on its clean wood, he remained fully clothed, knelt before her like a king who was ready to do whatever he could to please his queen.

But this was different; it was wrong. He was quiet – and Arthur was not a quiet man during sex. He enjoyed dirty talk and often ordered her to beg and scream his name, seeming to get his own satisfaction from how well he was pleasing _her._ But he was still fully dressed, minus his coat, and he hadn’t even bothered to pull his jumpsuit down to his hips so she could make his ego swell by appreciating his body, nor did he ask her what she wanted him to do to her. Instead, he was focused solely on pleasing her with not even the tiniest regard for himself.

Almost immediately, he spread her legs wide and dragged the flat of his tongue up her folds, making her gasp and shiver. A single finger dipped into her cunt, his lips closing around her clit and sucking on it gently as he began pushing and pulling the digit in and out. A second one soon joined in and her back arched, his free hand sliding up from her thigh and to her hip, then her stomach, and then her chest; but rather than groping her breast like she’d expected, he instead let his callused fingers gently run over her skin, exploring the spots he may have missed in all their times together before now.

When the third finger slipped in, he was sucking harder on her clit, the tip of his tongue flicking against it in his mouth, urging her to cum; and the moment he crooked his fingers, he may as well have begged her to reach her climax while her legs trembled on either side of his head.

But she didn’t.

And it was fucking _frustrating_.

The night before, with MacCready, she’d had such an intense orgasm and was left lying boneless from how goddamn good it was; but now, with Arthur, a man who knew every centimeter of her body and exactly what she liked, she couldn’t cum. He was doing everything right – nothing different or out of the ordinary; she could even argue he was more fucking enthusiastic about bringing her to climax. But she just… couldn’t. Her legs trembled and trembled and she felt like she was about to tip over the ledge and right into her orgasm, _especially_ when he crooked his fingers and rubbed the pads of them against that hidden bundle of nerves – but it just… didn’t happen. The feeling just went away.

Her nails dug into the table out of frustration and she huffed, eyebrows furrowed while she glared up at the ceiling. What the fuck was happening to her?

Arthur released her clit from his mouth and uncurled his fingers, keeping them inside as he stood and leaned in to kiss her. He could definitely tell she hadn’t cum because he knew exactly what it felt like when she did whether that was on his fingers, cock, or tongue, so there was no way he _didn’t_ know. But he didn’t question it and instead slowly moved his hand back and forth, fingers going in and out while his lips were stuck to hers in a gentle kiss.

But this was too much. This wasn’t Arthur and it was driving her fucking _crazy,_ even more than the fact she couldn’t cum. Why was he doing this? Why was he being this way – gentle and caring and considerate? Was he punishing her? Was this his way of telling her he could keep her under his thumb for the rest of their lives and she had no control over it, no inch of breathing room?

But then it hit her smack-dab in the fucking face – he was apologizing in one of the few ways Arthur Maxson truly knew how: through sex.

She’d refused to fully accept his verbal apologies and even struck him when he thought soft kisses added to it would make her forgive him after what he’d done in the showers. And now he had one card left to play and he was _desperately_ playing it — apologizing through sex. But it still wasn’t enough. Not by itself.

Nora reached her hand up and wrapped her fingers around his jaw from beneath, her palm pressed against the underside of it and into his beard. She pushed his face away gently so the kiss broke, though the look he gave her was one of confusion and even _that_ made her chest hurt.

As much as she loved being physical with him – fucking him and getting fucked by him – she just wanted it to be over with. She didn’t want to keep playing this game; not now. The man was fucking incredible with his mouth, both charismatically and when eating her out, but she didn’t want his apologies anymore. He kept dishing them out like a mirelurk queen laid eggs and it still changed nothing, no matter how much he meant them; she wanted him to change how he acted, how he saw her, how he saw _himself._ And as much as she’d said she could keep her feelings for him separated from when they fucked, she now knew it was a lie – and, hell, he couldn’t even figure out the fact he _had_ feelings, let alone know how to keep them out of the bedroom.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, and she watched his eyebrows furrow a bit more. Nora could almost see the cogs in his head spinning faster and faster while he undoubtedly thought out the strategies and outcomes of whatever their relationship was and where he could go from here; but there was no relationship – it was just sex. He’d made that clear that was all he wanted.

“No,” he replied, “Let me please you.” Arthur leaned down and kissed her freckled chest before trailing those kisses down her stomach, her hand detaching from his jaw in what he likely saw as her admitting defeat.

“Arthur, please.” She hoped he heard it as begging because she was horny and wanted him, but she just wanted him to get it over with – her chest hurt more and more with every touch he made, and she wanted to _leave_. He was ruining her – he was destroying her inside and out and every fucking second she was with him was just making it so much worse.

“I said no.”

But this was a game to him – one she couldn’t even be mad at him for playing because he didn’t understand she wasn’t a participant anymore. Well, she was, but she didn’t _want_ to be. She wanted to tap out and hide, but Arthur wouldn’t let that happen. As much as he had trouble understanding his own emotions, he also had trouble understanding everyone else’s. 

But she couldn’t voice it to him.

She could, however, bait him.

Just as he was knelt in front of her again, his lips kissing the inside of her thigh, she brought her legs up and placed her bare feet against his shoulders, then kicked out as hard as she could. The leg muscle she’d acquired during her time running around the Commonwealth was nothing compared to his own from years of toned workouts, but it still worked in her favor as the Elder was flung back onto his ass with a bewildered look on his face.

Nora had cast the lure and he was now circling it, his eyes honing-in on the trap and running each scenario through his head about what would happen with the different ways he reacted. She knew him well enough to know he was trying to keep control over himself but that he was also losing it very quickly, and her pushing him just made it that much harder.

Good.

Arthur brought himself to stand and started moving to her again, but the vaultie flicked the line by holding her hand up, palm flat, and facing him – just as he did to so many others and just as he had done to her the night she’d struck him twice. He froze only a foot away, sky blue eyes dropping to her hand, narrowing, and then returning to her face. There was a slight cock of his head and a look that asked if she was really trying to stop him with his own move – and, god, that look sent a wave of fear through her because it was the _exact_ same look the Courser had given her when she‘d said she needed the chip in its head.

But then he took the bait.

He smacked her hand away and lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of red hair and pushing her back so she was forced to lie on the table flat, no longer holding her head up. She yelped in response, mostly from the grab and how the back of her head slammed against the wood, but he held her still as his other hand started undoing his jumpsuit. He was quick, undoing the belts and buckles and zippers that took far too long before he shoved it down mid-thigh with his underwear. He released her hair only momentarily to let the suit slide off his arm, as well as to take his undershirt off, but when both arms were free, his hand went to her jaw and the three fingers he’d once had in her cunt were shoved into her mouth straight to the knuckle.

This was the Arthur she knew; the one she wanted – not the sweet and tender man who was trying to apologize between her legs and making her chest ache.

Nora gagged around his fingers, her hands immediately grabbing onto his wrist and trying to push it away from her face, but he hooked his wrist and pressed the bottom of his palm against the underside of her jaw, planting it there firmly. There was no hope in pushing him away because he was much stronger than her – then again, if she actually wanted him to stop, all she needed to do was tap his arm three times.

He kept his fingers in her mouth for a few more seconds before finally pulling them free, allowing her to turn her face away as she coughed with pink-tinted cheeks. But the sound of metal on metal – something she never really paid attention to before – caught her attention; and when she looked at him, she saw him pulling his holotags over his head, ready to toss them on the desk or somewhere else so they were out of the way.

“Leave them on,” she said, following it up with another cough. The Elder stared down at her for a moment, likely debating on whether he wanted to grant her the request, but she gave him no other choice. “Please leave them on, sir.” Only then did he slip the chain back around his neck, the two glowing tags that identified just who the man was before her falling loosely against his chest with a soft _clank_ as they bumped into one another and the blue glow just barely dimming when they were pressed into his dark chest hair.

Okay, so maybe she knew why she was only just now noticing him removing his holotags but she refused to actually acknowledge it had anything to do with her whiskey-filled not-actually-a-tumble-between-the-sheets with a certain paladin. 

Regardless, his body was back on hers, their fronts flush together as he grasped her chin. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.” He squeezed her chin. “Yes, sir. Please fuck me, sir.” Whatever she had to do or say just to get this over with – fine.

She felt him start to push in and her legs spread a bit more, a gasp leaving her throat followed by a soft moan. He took it slow at first, just like she knew he would, pushing himself all the way in and waiting for her to adjust before he started with small, shallow thrusts. But that never lasted long – and it certainly didn’t this time, either, because Arthur fucked her the same way he fought a war – brutally and with a take-no-prisoners mindset.

That was the Arthur she needed; the one she knew she could handle right now – not the one who had greeted her at the door and kissed her neck and focused only on her pleasure. No, she preferred the man who had shredded her vault suit and marked her throat for everyone to see even though those were giant red flags she should have noticed right away. 

But rose-colored glasses, and all that.

His hips snapped against her and she yelped, feeling the head of his cock slam into her cervix. He’d shifted around some – when the hell had he done that? – and now one hand was flat on the table to hold himself up and the other with fingers sprawled as he groped her breast. She’d put her own hands on his biceps, nails digging into the skin from how hard he was fucking her.

But those blue eyes were staring down at her, watching, and the moment she realized it was when she couldn’t take it anymore. Nora closed her eyes and turned her face away, letting out another moan when he snapped his hips against her because of it.

“Look at me.”

“Fuck,” she breathed, but only closed her eyes tighter.

“I said fucking look at me, Nora.”

“No.”

The word was whispered but he caught it – and he wasn’t happy about it. The hand on her breast shot up to her jaw, grabbing it and turning her chin toward him. She didn’t want to look at him – she couldn’t; she knew if she kept looking at those blue fucking eyes, she’d want to get lost in them and never find her way out. One of her hands pushed at his wrist while the other pushed at his jaw, shoving him away from her – something she knew he’d hate because he wanted to be _close_ right now but the rougher he was, the quicker he’d finish, and the sooner she could get away.

Arthur snatched her hands and pinned them above her head, using one of his to hold both of hers at the wrist. His free hand then went back to her jaw, turning so she’d look at him again. “Nora,” he growled. His thrusts weren’t faltering yet – they should have been by now. He was taking too long. Why was he taking so fucking long? 

Nora opened her eyes and looked up to him, finally making eye contact as he’d demanded. She found herself swirling around in the pale blue of his irises, counting the one, two, three flecks of some darker color – green? No, hazel – in his left eye while it was absent from his right one. The vaultie could get lost in his eyes for days, maybe even forever, and she’d be fine with that; because she knew she’d rather have this man stab her in the chest over and over and over again if it meant she could at least fall asleep in his arms and get lost in that blue fucking sky. And no matter how much they fought or how often she wanted to get away from him, she knew this was where she’d always truly want to be.

“Hey, hey, hey.” His voice had calmed though he was still breathing heavily. He’d released her chin and instead was cupping her jaw, thumb resting on her cheekbone. She blinked a few times and furrowed her eyebrows – when had he stopped fucking her? He was still inside her, so did he cum? “Nora,” he whispered, and she met his gaze again. “Where’d you go?”

“What?”

“Where did you go?”

“I—I don’t know what you mean?”

A frown was on his face again – of course, a frown, tainting those beautiful features – and he studied her for a long moment before releasing her wrists. “Let’s lay down,” he said quietly.

“No, Arthur, I’m alright. I’ll just go back to my bunk.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

He pulled her so she was sitting up and then helped her off the table before she climbed into the bed, facing the wall. Arthur was immediately behind her, wrapping his body around hers – chest to back, groin to ass, thighs to hamstrings – while their feet tangled further down. His arms wrapped around her like they always did, holding her close and tightly against his chest. Nora knew she never felt as calm and complete as she did when lying with him like this – he always held her as if she was the last good thing on this god forsaken earth. She wished she could believe it.

He placed soft kisses to her neck and shoulder, lingering on the fingerprint bruises that remained on her skin. It was comforting knowing he was there and she couldn’t help herself – nor did she even realize she did it until after it was done – when her hands found his, her fingers lacing between his knuckles while he held her. But he didn’t pull away or hesitate; instead, he flexed his fingers and laced them together, and even made a noise that sounded like a purr from deep in his chest while he placed another soft kiss beneath her ear.

Something was certainly wrong, she could tell. But for now, she had a yao guai on her back protecting her and that was enough to let her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I changed the chapter title to flow better with the next chapter.


	33. Baited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was what she wanted. This was always what she egged him on for – what she loved. He knew how to fuck her and make her cum and scream and if that was what she wanted instead of his apologies, then fine. She knew the safe word and she knew to tap him three times if she needed him to stop when she couldn’t speak, so if she wasn’t doing it, then it must have been what she desired.

It was ten after; she was late, which must have meant she wasn’t coming.

If she didn’t show, what did that mean? What did it mean for him – for them? They were never a couple; he’d made that point by carving lines in the metal floors between what they could be and what they were, ensuring the barrier was clear and the words were concise so they could not be ignored. And yet, not only did she ignore them, but _he_ ignored them, as well; chasing her and making her want more from him, only to push her away when she devoured the affection and asked for seconds.

He was hurting her, this he knew; but whether Nora realized it or not, she was doing the same to him. They were two broken people from completely different times who never asked nor wanted to be where they were at now. Nora Parker belonged in prewar Boston with her husband who loved her and her son who she would watch grow up and make a difference in the world. But instead, as if it was some cruel joke played by a merciless god, she was thrust into a post-apocalyptic hell hole that made no sense and was now trying to fix a broken man who should have died seven years ago in the belly of a mutated beast.

Now, he was at a loss of what to do. He’d lost every advantage he had and was stuck in limbo – an incomplete and forgotten state he had no idea how to free himself from. But perhaps… perhaps Ingram could help. She had, after all, attempted to take Arthur under her wing when he was just a boy, though it never went any further than an attempt since she was often sent out into the field; and by the time she lost her legs and became physically disabled, unable to go on missions any longer, he had already become a lost child. 

Even still, Ingram treated him no different than if she had become his mentor and he’d come to appreciate that whether she realized it or not. 

Then it was settled. Nora wasn’t coming so he’d seek out the proctor and, for once in his life, ask for advice pertaining to whatever this fucked up relationship he and Nora had was.

But as soon as he reached the door and opened it, his eyes landed upon familiar red hair on a half-shaved head. The blue vault suit was absent and replaced with a familiar orange and grey one, and her back was to him as she shifted from foot to foot, as if she were debating on whether to flee or turn around and knock on his door. Had she been there long? Perhaps that was why she was late – then again, Nora wasn’t known for her promptness, but whether that was because she enjoyed ticking him off and getting under his skin or because that was a feature unique to Nora herself was debatable.

“Are you coming in or not?” he asked, though his tone may have been a bit sharper than he intended. The vaultie nearly jumped out of her skin, apparently not knowing he was behind her despite the loud creak of the bulkhead as he’d opened it. She spun around to face him with wide eyes and shoulders back, mimicking a radiated doe on high alert for predators – and there was a good chance he was the predator. “You don’t have to, Nora. It wasn’t an order and it never will be. I would never force you to—”

Nora was quick as she ducked under his arm while he held the door open, making her way into his room before he could even finish what he was saying. Regardless, Arthur gently shut the door and locked it before turning to face her, finding her back was to him once again as she looked around.

Her eyes stopped on the table and chairs, likely noticing the new set had replaced the old one he’d broken, before she looked to his nightstand. He’d fixed the candle – sort of. The glass holder she’d had it in before had shattered when he’d thrown it against the wall, but the candle was fine, so he’d found a suitable replacement – a small glass cup – and put it back in its rightful place on his nightstand. And since he’d run out of matches, he moved the gold flip-lighter directly beside it, which he’d already used a couple times to light the remaining piece.

Three cigars were sat to the right of the lighter, however, and he knew she’d recognize them – they were a different brand than what he usually had around his room; much better in quality. But those three had specifically been in the trunk that had once been at the foot of his bed – the trunk he’d never really used because he had nothing to put in it. The same trunk she’d been storing random items in – specifically _junk_ – when she thought he didn’t notice; the same trunk he’d emptied onto the floor and smashed against the wall alongside the candle and coffee cup and chairs.

He saw her glance over to where the trunk had sat at the foot of his bed, noticing nothing had replaced it. It was probably safe for her to assume he’d thrown everything that was in it out since most of it was just junk anyway, aside from the stuff he could find use for. And to be honest, he’d certainly considered just tossing it all since most of the items were useless, like the toys and bowler hats; but there were some that actually had value, like the cigars and candles. But even though most things were worthless, especially the deflated basketball and teddy bear with the missing eye, he hadn’t thrown any of them away. Instead, he’d stuffed nearly everything in one of the dresser drawers he didn’t use while only keeping a few things out – the cigars, for one; but the other being a black queen chess piece that now sat on his desk.

But he didn’t want to give her time to find it; not tonight.

Nora said his name and immediately he was at her back, cutting off the rest of her sentence by wrapping an arm around her midsection and sliding his hand up her stomach, between her breasts, and to her collarbone, where his thumb remained on one side and four fingers on the other. Normally, he would have grabbed her throat and held it without choking her, but the bruises he’d seen on her pale skin just this morning were enough to convince him that was something that shouldn’t be done tonight. He didn’t want to upset her.

His lips found the skin just beneath her ear and he placed soft and slow kisses to it, holding her tightly against his body as he did. She sighed, nonverbally telling him he was doing the right thing, but despite this, she still didn’t tip her head or press back into him – she didn’t give in. The hesitance this vault dweller had shown outside his quarters moments ago was brought in with her and if they were to truly continue with what he had planned for the night, then she needed to submit to her more baser needs and let him have her.

The Elder unwrapped his arm from around her middle and slid his hand between her legs, feeling her squeeze her thighs together a bit tighter as he did; but he just ground the heel of his palm against her clothed cunt and it only took a few times of that for her to finally push her ass back against his groin, submitting. That was all he needed.

The hand between her legs went to her hip, spinning her around so she faced him before it slid back to her ass, grabbing and groping; his other hand had went from her collarbone to her hair, grabbing a fistful of the red locks while he pressed their lips together in a kiss. The action was less primal than usual and more filled with desire and lust, and she seemed to respond well to it as he pushed his tongue into her mouth and sought hers, though hers didn’t chase when his retreated.

The belts and buckles of her jumpsuit were no match for him as he began undressing her and he felt her hands place gently on his chest. She was, for once, wearing a Brotherhood-standard jumpsuit, the orange and grey sitting well with her pale skin and red hair – but the fact she was even wearing it at all was still a surprise. She wasn’t known for following rules and he wasn’t known for disciplining her for not following them.

Arthur pushed the jumpsuit down to her hips with one hand, his other still in her hair and yanking her head back so their lips broke apart, which he then promptly attacked her throat with licks and kisses that traveled between the single bruise on the left side of her neck to the four others on the right. He mapped the distance between each one, using his lips as the ratio scale of how far the spaces were between the dark marks, treating her neck just as he would when mapping the terrain for any new area he needed to learn. And while these bruises would not be present for long, they were still a part of her body in the here and now and he wanted to know them as well as he knew every other inch of her.

Slowly, they began to move toward the table, his body guiding hers as she stepped backward until they were stopped by the edge of the furniture nudging her rear. It was then he released her hair and allowed her the freedom to move while he pushed her jumpsuit and underwear down to mid-thigh, then hooked his hands beneath her ass and lifted her to sit on the edge of the table. Nora leaned back onto her wrists and he chased her, as he knew he always would, by bringing his mouth to her collarbone.

Callused fingers slipped behind her and unclasped her bra, gently sliding it free from her shoulders and arms before tossing it off to the side. He then trailed soft licks and kisses down her body, his tongue gently touching each spot before he kissed it as he went straight between her breasts and directly to a set of stretchmarks and an area of loose skin at the base of her sternum. He paused there, paying a little extra attention to the spot she’d always been self-conscious about – while he often had trouble reading emotions from others, he’d seen the furrowed eyebrows and tinted cheeks enough times in men, women, and everyone in between to know what that expression looked like, and Nora’s face was no stranger to it. 

He chanced a look up at her, but her eyes were closed, and her head was tipped back, seemingly enjoying the attention he was paying to the delicate parts of her body that weren’t used to being treated this way. The kisses and licks continued, placed over a few more stretch marks that were proof of a child she’d once brought into the world and made him wonder if perhaps, one day, she would bring his.

When he reached just below her navel, his hands started pulling off her boots, taking his time to unlace them and toss them to the side before he peeled the rest of her clothes away; and soon, she sat there naked on his brand-new table, bared to him with her legs just barely open enough to see her slick while he was knelt in front of her.

Their eyes met momentarily, and Nora bit her lower lip almost nervously, but it only made him smile just enough to show that lopsided feature he was gifted so many years ago. Arthur slid his hands between her thighs and spread them open, leaning in to drag the flat of his tongue up her folds and already being able to taste just how damn wet she was despite how he’d barely even touched her. The vaultie gasped and he followed it up by slipping a single finger into her, his lips enclosing around her clit and sucking gently; but he was quick to add a second finger, and then a third while his free hand slid up her thigh, hip, stomach, and chest, exploring her skin as he sucked her clit harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against it. Her legs were trembling on either side of his head just like they always did before she came, and it egged him on; he urged her to climax by crooking his fingers and pressing the pads against that bundle of nerves inside her.

She was pulsing around his fingers but not because she came. He knew exactly how it felt when she came around him, whether it was his fingers, cock, or tongue – he knew how she sounded, how she arched her back and curled her toes. But this? This was her sitting on the edge of her climax and not tipping over – instead, she was just dangling off the edge, threatening to drop, until something pulled her back up.

Arthur looked up to her as she huffed, noticing she had her own eyes open and was glaring at the ceiling in frustration – perhaps cursing a god who had abandoned her long ago. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and he assumed she was unsure why she wasn’t able to cum despite how he had easily gotten her to that precipice, just like he always had and just like he always would. But perhaps he was doing something wrong this time and had lost his touch over the past week or so since they’d last had sex – not including the time he’d fucked her in the showers in front of Danse.

Gently, her clit was freed from his mouth, and he flicked his tongue along it one more time, making her shiver; his fingers uncurled though he never pulled them out, and instead, he stood and leaned over her while she was still leaned back on her hands. He pressed his lips to hers in another soft kiss, wanting to apologize for being unable to make her cum but knowing she wouldn’t accept yet another verbal apology nor one that was made of gentle kisses.

Delicate fingers slipped beneath his chin as their lips were locked, her fingers curling against his cheeks and pushing him away. He allowed it, confusion washing over his face as she seemed to not want what he was offering; he wanted to please her – he _enjoyed_ pleasing her. She deserved to be able to cum over and over and over again, especially after everything he’d put her through. But now… was it not good enough? Had she found something better?

Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and his eyes dropped to watch it before looking back to that royal blue color again.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

He must have been doing something wrong. He could fix it.

“No, let me please you.” Her hand slipped away from his jaw as his lips went to her freckled chest, placing licks and kisses down her body again just as he had done before.

“Arthur, please.”

Her voice was quiet, begging; but he wouldn’t give in. This night was supposed to be about her pleasure and her pleasure alone; he needed to make her see how fucking sorry he was, how he knew he fucked up, how he could fix everything he’d broken and make it all better and make _them_ better, whatever they were. He just needed her to accept his apology first.

Three fingers were still inside her, slowly moving in and out despite no longer being curled as he trailed kisses down to the inside of her thigh. “I said no,” he replied, but his tone was firmer than before. She needed to let him do this. He could make it better, she just had to let him apologize. This was for _her._

But she shifted her legs and pressed the bottoms of her bare feet to his shoulders and he didn’t even have a chance to react before he was shoved backward, ending up flat on his ass. 

Did she just… push him away?

He stared at her with his eyebrows furrowed while another tidal wave of confusion washed over his face. What was he supposed to do now? If he went back to her, she might lash out; if he gave up, she might be insulted. Was there a middle road? No, there was no middle road. She was still mad at him, that was for certain; and he couldn’t really blame her, either. But he wanted to apologize – he _needed_ to apologize – and she wasn’t letting him. Was this her telling him to leave her alone?

No, he knew what she was doing; she was trying to rile him up just like she always did because she wanted him to fuck her. She wanted him to be rough and dominant and commanding because that’s what he was _good at_ , but he wasn’t going to fall for it; he wouldn’t fall for the lure and get baited into doing what she wanted him to do. Arthur had self-control. This night was about _her_ and _her alone_.

The Elder stood and began approaching her again, though he was cautious as he did. But from where she leaned back on her hands, one of them raised and made a movement he knew all too well – her palm went flat and faced him, a sign he used with many others, specifically subordinates, that told them to stop doing something. And she was actually trying to use it on him. Arthur froze about a foot away before his eyes dropped to her hand, narrowing slightly, and then flicked back up to her face as he gave a slight cock of the head.

Fuck it.

He swiped at her hand, smacking it away before reaching out and grabbing her hair on the side of her head, moving closer to her so she was pushed back and forced to lie flat on the table. Nora yelped when her head slammed against the wood, though he paid it no mind – because this was what she wanted, wasn’t it? She wanted sex? She wanted him to fuck her, to be rough and dominating like usual instead of spending time worshipping her body like she deserved or apologizing for every single fucking mistake he made?

Fine.

He worked his jumpsuit down, releasing her hair only to slide his arm free from the confines of his clothing and to push his suit and underwear down to mid-thigh; and then he was right back on her, his hips and stomach pressed flush against hers though he didn’t push into her yet. One of his hands went flat on the table while the other went to her jaw, forcing her face forward before the three fingers that had originally been in her cunt were shoved into her mouth straight to the knuckle. Immediately, she gagged, and her hands went to his wrist to try and push him away while she writhed beneath him; but he held her there, hooking his wrist so his palm pressed against her chin and the underside of her jaw as he felt her throat constrict around the tips of his fingers. 

This was what she wanted. This was always what she egged him on for – what she loved. He knew how to fuck her and make her cum and scream and if that was what she wanted instead of his apologies, then fine. She knew the safe word and she knew to tap him three times if she needed him to stop when she couldn’t speak, so if she wasn’t doing it, then it must have been what she desired.

Her stomach rolled heavily beneath his and he pulled his fingers out, letting her dry-heave and cough and gasp for air as her face grew redder and redder. He pulled his upper body away, though his hips remained slotted between hers as he began pulling his holotags off, having made it a habit now since most people he’d had sex with found them annoying. But just as he pulled them over his head, Nora spoke, her voice raspy from having had his fingers down her throat.

“Leave them on.”

His gaze returned to her and he cocked one eyebrow up.

“Please leave them on, sir.”

Better. The chain was slipped back around his neck and he let the tags fall against his chest, the blue glow faint while in the dark expanse of hair. 

Arthur leaned over her again, now rubbing the length of his cock against her folds as he grasped her chin in one hand. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.” There she went again, being defiant. He squeezed her chin. “Yes, sir. Please fuck me, sir.”

He reached his free hand down between them, lining himself up before pushing in; the movement was slow even though he knew she didn’t need it since he’d already fingered her. She made a soft noise once he was hilted, and he gave her a few moments to adjust as the hand on her chin tipped her head back and to the side, giving him access to lick and kiss at her collarbone just before he started with slow, shallow thrusts.

But the pace was quickly increased, his hips soon slamming against hers and causing the table beneath them to creak.

Maybe he needed a different table. The old one never did this.

Arthur released her chin and placed one hand on the wood, palm flat, while the other began to roam her body. He watched as his fingers slid down between her breasts, over her stomach, up her side, and finally back up to her left breast, groping as much as he could. She had such soft skin and the way her tits bounced up and down with every thrust only made him want to leave bite marks all over her chest.

Delicate hands slid up to his biceps, nails digging into the skin just as his eyes looked up to her face, but she was looking elsewhere – the ceiling? He snapped his hips against her, forcing a yelp from her throat as the head of his cock hit the soft barrier in the back of her cunt. She finally looked at him but it was only for a moment before she turned her face away, eyes closing even as she let out a moan.

Why wouldn’t she look at him?

“Look at me,” he growled, snapping his hips against her once again and receiving another noise from her because of it. 

“Fuck,” she breathed, and it sounded almost pained, but she only squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

“I said fucking look at me, Nora.”

“No.”

Her voice was quiet, only a whisper, and he almost didn’t hear it – but the small movement of her lips told him what she’d said. He released her breast and roughly grabbed her jaw, turning her face toward him; but it was then she fought back, her own hands leaving his arms and, instead, one pushed at his wrist while the other at his face, both shoving him away. But he released her chin and grabbed her wrists, slamming them against the table above her head and moving them close together so he could hold both with one of his hands. His free one then went back to her jaw, grabbing it roughly again and yanking her face forward once more.

“Nora,” he growled.

It was only then did she finally open her eyes, meeting his gaze as he kept pounding into her, never having let up. He’d felt her get close to coming twice now, her legs trembling as they wrapped around his hips; he could feel her cunt pulsing around his cock, involuntarily feigning release as if he’d be tricked into believing she’d really cum when she showed no other signs of having done so. He could see the frustration in her face each time, as well, and he partially worried something might be wrong.

And then she was gone again, her eyes staring right into his now but almost as if they were looking right _through_ him like she wasn’t even really there.

That was twice now. But first time was too many.

Arthur stopped thrusting and instead kept their hips locked, his hands still holding her wrists and jaw. “Nora,” he said gently, but she just stared at him, lips slightly parted while she panted alongside him. His hand slid from holding her chin to cupping her jaw, thumb gently resting on her cheekbone.

But she blinked once, and he saw her come back just slightly before leaving again. “Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered, keeping his voice calm though his chest felt like it was about to explode. She blinked a few more times before confusion washed over her face as she focused on him while he was just resting above her, cock still buried in her pussy. There she was. “Nora, where’d you go?”

“What?”

“Where did you go?” he repeated. Did she not even realize she’d just clocked out while having sex?

“I—I don’t know what you mean?”

He frowned as he studied her face. Something was wrong – something was _very_ wrong. He should have seen it from the beginning. Maybe he’d made a mistake asking her to sleep with him tonight. Maybe, if he’d left her alone, she wouldn’t be like this. Maybe she was like this because of him.

“Let’s lay down,” he said gently. The Elder released her wrists and pushed himself to stand, slowly slipping out of her though he’d gone mostly soft by then, the worry and panic having pumped the blood straight from his groin and into his chest.

“No, Arthur, I’m alright. I’ll just go back to my bunk.”

She didn’t want to stay – it was him. His fault. He’d done this to her – he’d broken her. How could he have broken her? How could he have been so fucking foolish and selfish?

“That wasn’t a request.”

But he couldn’t let her leave in this state; if she was ill or if something was truly wrong and he let her leave, only for something to happen, he’d never forgive himself. She’d stay with him for the night and he’d ensure she woke up in the morning, then he’d take her to Cade. If he had to explain everything that was happening between them himself, then so be it.

He helped her sit up and get off the table, allowing her to climb onto the bed first as he pulled his boots off and removed his flight suit and underwear the rest of the way since he’d only pushed them down to mid-thigh. And once she was lying on the bed, he climbed onto it after her, curling his body around her back like he longed to do every single night – like he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

His arms wrapped around her like they always did – one under her neck and crossed over her chest with his hand on her upper arm, and the other draped over her stomach with his fingers tucked beneath her side. She nestled herself back against him, seeming to relax in his hold – and, in turn, that calmed him. 

Arthur placed gentle kisses to her neck and shoulder, focusing a little more attention on the bruises that were still on her skin. He wanted to protect her, but he couldn’t. He didn’t. And even worse, he was harming her himself. 

Nora shifted a little though his eyes had closed by then, but he felt soft, prewar fingers slide between his knuckles from on top of his hands, lacing her fingers into his. Maybe, if this were any other time, he would have pulled away or hesitated or something – but not this time. Instead, he spread his fingers, flexing them to let her get comfortable in her hold before he closed his hands and kept them together. A soft noise escaped him – one he didn’t even mean to make – but she sighed in return, and he could only place one more gentle kiss beneath her ear.

Tonight was horrible; something was wrong with them and Arthur didn’t know if there was any possibility either one of them could be fixed or if there could even be anything more between them. But what he did know was the woman in his arms wasn’t just making him lose control over his life or making him feel things he didn’t understand, but she was also making him realize he’d do just about anything for her; he was at her beck and call even if she didn’t know it. Because Nora knew how to strike him in the tender spots through every tiny hole and crack she’d made in the walls he’d spent years building around himself, and he was at her mercy – but now, he realized, as this soft creature was tucked against his chest, filling every nook and cranny of his body, he was actually alright with that.


	34. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt her free hand slide up his thigh before it cupped his balls, her fingers and palm rolling them in a massage that made him clench the sheets harder in his fists. But when he felt the tips of her fingers press into the skin right behind his sac, those fingernails putting a slightly sharp pressure, Arthur could only bend his knees as he moaned.
> 
> Where the hell did she learn that?

He woke to soft kisses being placed on his throat, just below his beard line, from lips he’d gotten to know well and he could only tip his head back to offer more of the tender skin to the woman who had somehow managed to roll him onto his back and straddle his hips without waking him. Nimble hands were on his chest, fingers threaded into the dark expanse of hair that covered his front as her palms slid up to his shoulders; her touch alone seemed to melt any bit of tension his body held. 

Arthur’s hands found her thighs on either side of his body, rough palms slowly stroking them up and down to reacquaintance himself with the feeling of her legs like he wanted to do every night. She was so soft, nothing like anyone he’d ever felt before and especially not like him – she was clearly not from this time; and it was almost as if she was from another world. If someone had told him she’d crashed here on an alien ship, he might have believed them.

Those tender lips trailed a bit lower and he felt her tongue slip between them, the tip of it dragging along the curve just beneath his Adam’s apple and then down to the base of his throat. The Elder could do nothing but sigh, consuming the feeling through his pores; and when he felt her teeth bite into the skin where his neck met his collarbone, he let out a soft groan. The bite wasn’t hard enough to mark him – and she knew better than to do that – but otherwise biting him was enjoyable and he _relished_ in the feeling. Besides, if she bit a little too hard, his jumpsuit would have gone up enough to cover the spot if it was red for a while.

Soft kisses were trailed down to his chest, her lips kissing against the hair and not even seeming to mind it. Arthur opened his eyes then, tipping his head down to meet her blue gaze with his own as she stared up at him while her kisses kept moving down, down, down his body until she was at his groin. He was hard, his cock pressed up against his belly and aching for her touch, but she didn’t give it any attention yet; instead, she kissed his left thigh and dragged the tip of her tongue along his skin before biting down.

Hard.

Nora marked his upper thigh, close to his groin, and he could only let out a low, growling moan in response – but he couldn’t bring himself to push her away. The mixture of pleasure and pain was too great, and he wanted more; and the idea no one would see the bruise she’d left on him was a good enough reason to let her do it again and again, if she wanted. Perhaps that was why she risked it – she knew he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else, so marking him in a place only she was giving attention to was just as much for her as it was for him.

His hands clenched the sheets beneath him as he watched her move to his other thigh, repeating the same actions – kisses and licks to his skin before a rough bite, leaving another mark that made him growl and moan while he involuntarily flexed his hips.

When the vault dweller finally released his skin, a mischievous grin spread across her face while she stared up at him, but it only lasted a second before she finally – _finally_ – paid attention to his throbbing cock. The flat of her tongue was dragged up his length, making Arthur sigh with pleasure and relief that he was being touched. And when she sucked one of his balls into her mouth at the same time her fingers wrapped around his girth, her hand slowly stroking up and down, a deep moan escaped his chest and he reached one hand down and threaded his fingers into her hair – but didn’t grab. She seemed determined to take things at her own pace and he’d grant her that for now.

Nora pulled her mouth from him and increased the pace of how fast she stroked his cock, her wrist twisting each time her palm went over the head, which made his hips just barely thrust into her hand against his will. His eyes closed momentarily, and she took that opportunity to slide the head of his cock into her mouth, then slowly – _so fucking slowly_ – slid the entirety of his length all the way to the back of her throat. She’d done this enough times now that she knew to swallow around him to keep herself from gagging, having learned that technique early on in their arrangement. But the feeling of the entirety of his cock being enclosed in the warmth and wetness of her mouth combined with how her throat clenched around the soft head made him let out another long, low moan.

“Fuuuuck, Nora.”

The vault dweller slowly began sliding him out of her mouth, making a humming noise that almost sounded like a laugh against him just before the only thing that was left between her lips was the head. She swirled her soft tongue against the underside of it before pushing her head down quickly, trying to mimic what it felt like when he slowly pulled his cock from her cunt and then shoved back in. It was pretty damn close. Her hand soon returned to his cock, however, and wrapped around the base for what her mouth wasn’t covering; she bobbed her head, her fist pumping over the remainder of his dick to ensure every single throbbing inch was receiving some sort of stimulation.

He felt her free hand slide up his thigh before it cupped his balls, her fingers and palm rolling them in a massage that made him clench the sheets harder in his fists. But when he felt the tips of her fingers press into the skin right behind his sac, those fingernails putting a slightly sharp pressure, Arthur could only bend his knees as he moaned.

Where the hell did she learn that? 

“I’m gonna – _fuck_ – I’m gonna cum,” he groaned. Nora hummed around his cock again but she never let up and instead the hand cupping his balls and rolling them within her palm hooked, allowing her to squeeze his sac just enough to cause some pain while her fingertips pressed harder into the skin behind it – and it sent him _skydiving_ over the edge. He may as well have been wearing a suit of power armor and jumping off the flight deck of the Prydwen for how quick he toppled over.

Arthur’s back arched as he came, spilling into her mouth while she made a pleased noise around him that only increased the intensity of his orgasm. Her tongue swirled along the underside of his cock, helping him along and ensuring he was clean of his own release even though she’d never slipped him free of the confines of her mouth. And only once she was sure she’d milked him of every last drop did she let him fall free with a _pop_ before slowly crawling back up his body, trapping his lips in a deep kiss that he so eagerly returned.

Her tongue brushed across his lower lip, urging his own to chase it, which he immediately tried; but just as he did, Nora spit into his mouth and made him taste a glob of his own cum that was mixed with her saliva as it was transferred from her lips and onto his tongue. He relished in it and groaned into the kiss, swallowing what she shared with him while moving his hands up to slide one into her hair and wrapping his other arm around her midsection, holding her body tightly against his.

The vaultie smiled against his lips and shifted herself so her cunt was grinding down on his shaft while it rested against his stomach, her pussy being so damn wet that the underside of his cock easily slipped between her folds. She ground her clit against him, a soft gasp being made into the kiss and he just devoured the noise, holding her tighter against his chest. The hand in her hair gripped a fistful of the locks and tipped her head to the side, his lips then moving to her neck and biting at the skin just beneath her ear, sucking it into his mouth and leaving a thick mark that would soon turn into a bruise.

“Fuck, Arthur,” she moaned into his ear and the sound was so sexy he couldn’t help but flex his hips to push himself up against her. Her hand reached behind her and he felt her fingers wrap around his cock, ready to adjust their bodies so she could ride him – but the position they were in was far too nice to change it just yet.

“Not yet. I want you to cum just from grinding on me. I’ll fuck you once you do.” Nora made a soft whine but obeyed, her hand coming back around and instead sliding into his hair, fingers threading into the locks though not gripping since she knew better. Her hips were grinding down on him again, her swollen clit rubbing against the ridged base of the head of his cock.

The Elder went back to her neck, licking and kissing and biting in different spots, keeping one hand in her hair and his other arm around her midsection to hold her body tightly against his; her hips were soon moving a bit more aggressively against him, her breaths quickening and becoming shaky. The hand in his hair gripped slightly but he let it slide since it wasn’t intentional, and her other one went to his forearm while she made a soft noise into his ear.

“Arthur, baby,” she whispered, her legs trembling on either side of his hips. He groaned against her throat at the pet name and nipped her skin. “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Nora.”

It only took a few more moments before she came, her moan stifled as she turned her head to press her mouth against the skin just beneath his ear. He gently flexed his hips beneath her, barely rubbing himself against her clit until she was jerking away from him due to sensitivity; his hand pulled her head back by her hair and he brought her into a kiss that was deep and passionate. The arm around her midsection snaked down around her so he could angle his cock up, her hips lifting and then lowering so to let him slide in. She was already so damn wet before she even came but her orgasm made it to where there was almost no resistance when he pushed in – plus, she was still fairly stretched from last night.

Nora moaned against his lips and took his bottom one between her teeth, gently tugging it before sucking it into her mouth – something she’d never done before but damn if he didn’t enjoy it. She was full of surprises.

Arthur hilted himself fairly quickly and easily, her hips lowering to his groin to lock their bodies together. She sat up then, delicate fingers splaying across his chest and nails just barely biting into his skin as her hips slowly began to rock. Her lower lip was pulled between her teeth, blue eyes locking onto his own as she started fucking him. He’d let go of her hair when she sat up and instead allowed his hands to move to her thighs, rough palms rubbing up her legs like he’d done when he woke to her straddling his hips. Nora moaned, her eyes fluttering closed until his hand was roughly grasping her jaw; they snapped back open and she immediately looked down to him though her hips never stopped grinding.

“Eyes on me,” he said, his voice firm but quiet.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl.” The Elder released her chin and, instead, slid his hand along her jaw and to the back of her neck, pulling her down so their lips met again just briefly before he released her. “Put your hands on my thighs,” he ordered.

Nora did as she was told by leaning back so her hands went to the lower part of his thighs, palms steadying herself just above his knees. She rocked back and forth, her body moving fluidly like a constant wave of water that began in her hips, continued into her abdomen, and finished in her chest – only to start again back in her hips, thrusting forward and moving back.

Sliding a hand between her legs, his thumb started rubbing her clit in quick circles while she rolled her hips against him, and soon her thighs began to tremble. It never took long to get her to cum; then again, he’d never had trouble getting _anyone_ to cum – aside from last night, of course – because he was a quick learner who knew what he was doing. He spent time learning the bodies of his subs because making them scream and writhe in pleasure was what gave him satisfaction; having control over how good they felt, how much pain they were in, and whether or not they could cum was what he enjoyed.

Her legs trembled more while her breathing was getting heavier and her moans growing louder.

“Baby,” she breathed, and he almost groaned at the pet name like before, “I’m gonna cum again.” Her hips rocked a bit harder and faster and he could feel her cunt tightening around him, ready to cum all over his cock – but he wasn’t ready to let her.

“I don’t want you to cum yet,” he said, but his thumb never stopped rubbing those fast circles on her clit. She furrowed her eyebrows and slowed her hips, looking down to him with a pleading expression.

“Please?”

“Do not cum until I say you can, Nora. Now keep going,” he ordered, using a voice she would be familiar with as something he mostly only used in the bedroom – or at least only when they were alone.

His thumb sped up and he listened to her breathing grow more ragged, her cunt tight around his cock as she tried to hold her orgasm in. Her eyes were locked onto his, lips parted just slightly while she tried to control herself, but he could see it in her face – she was struggling. She wanted to cum, she _needed_ to cum, and he was denying her that baser need.

“Baby, please,” she whined, her entire body now trembling atop him. “Please, I want to cum.”

“No. Do not cum.”

Her jaw visibly tensed, and her hands squeezed the meat on his thighs, nails digging in; she was beginning to breathe her moans, unable to stop them while her thighs squeezed around his hips.

“Please, Arthur. I need to cum. I can’t hold it anymore. Please, baby. Please let me cum.”

Arthur reached his free hand up to grab her hair, pulling her down so their chests were flush, and he could push his lips against hers. His other hand moved out from between her legs and instead he wrapped his arm around her midsection, holding her tightly against him as he’d been doing earlier. But rather than letting her rock against him like that, the Elder bent his knees and dug his heels into the bed, then started bucking up into her roughly. Nora keened against his lips and he devoured the sound, but he didn’t stop at one thrust – he kept going, over and over again, his hips pushing up against her, sliding his cock in and out at a fast pace. Her entire body was trembling atop him still and he could feel her cunt clenching and pulsing around his cock, never having stopped.

He broke the kiss and tilted her head to the side, his teeth clamping down beneath her ear again, this time on the side of her neck he hadn’t yet marked; and he could _hear_ how much she was struggling to keep herself from coming. She wasn’t going to be able to hold it in much longer – and if she kept trying, her body would just release without actually getting pleasure from it, and that certainly wouldn’t do. When he let her skin fall from between his teeth, Arthur shifted his head to put his lips at her ear while he bucked against her brutally.

_”Cum.”_

Immediately, Nora came around him, screaming his name against his shoulder as he fucked up into her; she pulsed around his cock and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer, either.

“Fuck, Nora, I’m so close,” he growled.

“Cum in me.” She whispered against his ear.

But that... caught him off guard. His eyebrows furrowed and he stopped thrusting, instead gently pushing her up so he could see her face. Her hands went to his chest to hold herself steady. “You know I can’t.”

“Please, Arthur. I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me. I’ll give you little Maxson babies if that’s what it takes, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He studied her face for a long moment, his eyes flicking between her own, trying to find the strategy she was playing or what the catch might be – but he found none.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice skeptical.

“Yes, I’m sure. Please, Arthur, cum inside me. I want you to fill me. I want _you.”_

The Elder had to hold back a groan at her words before he pulled her body back down onto his chest, lips locking with hers once more in a deep kiss. He wrapped one arm around her midsection again, then threaded his fingers back into her hair to grab a fistful just like before and began thrusting up into her brutally. The claps of skin echoed off the walls as he fucked her, and it took a bit longer than it would have if he hadn’t stopped, but he soon felt that coiling heat in his gut – and he couldn’t hold it any longer.

Arthur came inside her, his eyes rolling up slightly as the lids fluttered closed and he moaned a deep noise from his chest. Nora’s lips found his throat again and began biting at the tender flesh, helping him along his second orgasm while her hand slid into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. 

She stayed atop him, keeping his cock buried deep inside her even after he’d been milked of every last drop of cum by her pulsing cunt. He was still breathing heavily though he tried to slow it down and had turned his head to place a gentle kiss to her temple before she shifted so she was leaning on her hands that were planted on either side of him on the mattress. Their eyes locked and there was a smile on her face, and he couldn’t help the lopsided one that appeared on his.

“I love you, Arthur,” she whispered.

“I—”

The sound of retching from the bathroom cut him off. His face crinkled in confusion and he looked over to where the bathroom door was before looking back to Nora. Where she was once flushed slightly red from the intensity of their sex with a smile on her face, she was now ghost white with a glazed-over look in her eyes, her lips slightly parted as she looked exhausted and ill.

“Nora?” he said gently, but the only response he received was more retching from the bathroom.

Arthur turned his head to look at the bathroom door again, but the moment he looked back in front of him, the woman in his lap had disappeared.

His eyes opened suddenly, staring at the darkness of the wall beside his bed, Nora absent from his arms despite that being how they’d fallen asleep. Had she left without waking him?

The sound of vomiting from the bathroom answered his question.

He rolled to his back and sat up, swinging his legs off the side of his bed and reached for the nightstand to flick on the lights, taking a moment to glance at the clock. It was nearly 0600, meaning the rest of the Prydwen would be waking soon.

Quickly, the Elder stood and made his way to the bathroom, being greeted by the vault dweller sitting on the floor beside the toilet. “Nora,” he whispered. She was still naked, likely having just woken up and went straight to the bathroom. Her legs were slightly bent and pressed together, and her face was buried in the crook of her elbow as it rested on her knees. Maxson crouched beside her, one hand going to the middle of her back – she was covered in sweat. “Hey, look at me.”

Slowly, the vaultie lifted her head, her blue eyes glazed over and hazily peering up at him. Her face was glistening with sweat and she looked much paler than usual, all of it accompanied by a bit of wheezing. “Hi,” she whispered.

His free hand went to her forehead, feeling how clammy it was before it went to her cheek and cupped her jaw. She just leaned into the touch while her eyes fluttered closed.

“We’re going to see Cade, okay?”

Nora nodded. “Okay.”


	35. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know of any allergies she might have? Such as latex?” Cade asked.
> 
> Arthur looked to Cade, but the medic had his gaze down at his clipboard as if he hadn’t just asked a question with a clear underlying meaning. “I do not know of any allergies she has,” he answered as he leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees while his eyes drifted to the ground.

With one arm hooked under her knees and the other around her back as he held her close against his chest, Arthur carried the vault dweller to his bed and gently set her down. They needed to get dressed before he took her to the medbay but getting her jumpsuit back on would be far too difficult since she’d likely not be helping much. Instead, he opted to go to his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans he rarely ever wore and a shirt, then snatching her underwear from the floor on the way back to her. He pulled the jeans up his hips, buttoning and zipping them, and then began to dress her, trying to be as gentle as possible. Her underwear was first and Nora tried to help as much as she could, but she seemed far too weak and tired to do much more than lift her legs a bit – though he didn’t mind, and instead spoke softly to her about how she was alright and didn’t need to worry and that he’d take care of her. And once her underwear was on, he tugged the shirt over her torso; so long as she was mostly covered, that was what mattered.

Grabbing her pip-boy, the Elder gently placed it in Nora’s hands and watched her fingers wrap around it weakly before he picked her back up the way he had before and carried her out of the room, beelining for the medbay.

Kells, being the ever so prompt soldier who was always ready by 0600 rather than just waking up by then, was already exiting his own room to the right of Arthur’s just as he carried her out. The two officer’s locked eyes for a moment and it was just long enough to see the look of disappointment engross the lancer-captain’s face; after all, Arthur _was_ coming out of his bedroom wearing only a pair of jeans and carrying a half-unconscious woman who was in one of his shirts. But regardless of what Kells thought – and regardless of how common that look was given to him – there was no time to deal with it. With a sharp _’Kells, get Cade! Now!’_ shouted, he carried her straight down the hall as quickly as he could while being sure not to jostle the woman in his arms.

As soon as he was in the medbay, the Elder gently set her down on one of the beds, being careful with her head. Her eyes fluttered open and looked up to him, though they were still glazed over and hazy. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it again, her eyes closing once more.

“Getting sick.”

“You have no reason to apologize for that, Nora. Cade will be here soon, and you’ll be better in no time, alright?”

“Mm. Okay, Arthur.” Her voice trailed off and almost immediately after, he heard rushed footsteps approaching the room. The Elder gently pulled his hand from her face and turned his attention to the door as Cade came in, trying to wake himself up since he hadn’t much time to do so yet.

“Elder Maxson?” he asked.

“Something’s wrong with her, Cade,” Arthur answered in a low tone.

The knight-captain moved to the other side of the bed, across from Arthur. “What are her symptoms?” he asked while checking her pulse.

“Fatigue, vomiting, sweating. Her skin is clammy.”

“Anything else?”

“She was… last night…” The Elder paused, trying to figure out how to say it without giving away the status of their relationship, or whatever it was they had going. “Last night, she seemed to be staring off a lot like she was daydreaming.”

“Is that unusual for her?” Cade was checking her pupils now, flashing a light in them to test their reactions.

“… Yes.” It was probably best not to mention she was doing it while they were having sex.

“I see.” The medic gently tugged Nora’s mouth open by her chin as if she were the great fish ready to swallow Jonah whole, using the light to check her tongue, gums, and throat. “Uh-huh.” He allowed her mouth to close before he began pressing his fingertips into different spots on her arms, legs, and abdomen; but Arthur couldn’t help himself as he watched every single move Cade made – almost protectively. He was unable to protect her before, but he’d damn well do it from here on out. “Well, it looks to me like she’s suffering from untreated radiation sickness and that it’s progressing, but I’ll have to get a dosimeter to see just how bad it is.”

“Wait,” Arthur began as his eyes finally broke away from where Cade’s hands were on Nora, turning his gaze up to the medic’s face, “Progressing?”

The older man rounded the bed and began to move toward his desk. “Knight Parker is prewar, correct?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

Cade opened one of the two white medical kits that were attached to the wall behind his desk. “Then it is likely her body does not handle radiation like ours do. We have some forms of resistance to it because we were born into a world with high amounts of radiation, but she was not.” He pulled out two bags of radaway, some tubing, and a needle before turning around and grabbing three empty vials and a dosimeter from one of the shelves beneath the countertop. “If she was recently exposed to a decent amount of radiation without taking any radaway, her body could have reacted by increasing its progression at a much faster rate.”

Arthur returned his eyes to Nora, his back to Cade now since the medic was behind his desk; he let his thumb gently stroke over her cheekbone, feeling how clammy her skin was. “From my understanding from Paladin Danse’s reports, she’s usually very careful in the field regarding radiation exposure specifically because of being prewar. Her pip-boy has a built-in Geiger counter and dosimeter for reading her radiation levels, as well.”

“Hm.” Cade began moving back toward the bed and Arthur pulled his hand away from Nora’s face, letting his arm drop to his side. The medic set the items down on an aluminum tray on a side table then used the dosimeter to check her radiation levels. After a few moments, his eyebrows raised. “Well, she just broke four-hundred rads, so that explains her symptoms.” 

Arthur sighed. “So, it’s likely her pip-boy is broken, then,” he said as Cade began prodding the vaultie’s arm with his finger before pricking her with a needle. They didn’t often have enough supplies to keep things entirely sterile, so he had to trust the medic wasn’t going to make it worse in this regard. 

“It may be, yes,” he confirmed while he filled up the three vials of blood then hooked up one of the bags of radaway, hanging it on an IV stand beside her bed. “I’ll check her levels once this bag is done and then give her another dose, as needed. I would suggest taking her pip-boy to Proctor Ingram to see if it’s malfunctioning.”

“Very well,” Arthur said, “I’ll take care of it.”

“Before you go, Elder,” the medic added, “I’m sure you’re aware we don’t have any medical information on Knight Parker other than what she volunteered during the entry medical exam.” Cade was back behind his desk as he spoke, grabbing a clipboard that had a paper and pen attached to it. “Since you’ve spoken to her quite a bit, do you think it’s possible you might be able to answer some questions?”

Arthur thought it was fairly obvious, at this point, he did more than ‘speak’ with Nora, considering he’d brought her into the medbay wearing only a pair of panties and his shirt while he, himself, was just wearing a pair of jeans rather than his jumpsuit. But it was possible Cade was just being polite because the man was far from oblivious to these things. “I’m not sure how much help I will be, but I will try my best.”

The knight-captain moved to grab a chair and carried it over to Arthur so he could sit, then did the same for himself directly across the small room. “Very good, thank you. Now, Knight Parker was a vault dweller; she was… cryogenically frozen before the bombs fell?”

“That is correct.”

“Do you know her approximate age? Or, rather, the age she was before being frozen?”

Now that he thought about it, he really didn’t. She knew his age because it was something people in the Brotherhood spoke of – _the youngest Elder in history_ – but he’d never actually asked her age. “I believe she is twenty-eight or twenty-nine,” he guessed. He knew she was closer to Danse’s age than his own.

Cade scribbled the numbers on his paper. “Does she drink, smoke, or do chems?”

“Yes, no, and no.”

“Drink a lot?”

Arthur sighed and rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyelids. When did he approve this sort of questioning of his soldiers? It was unnecessary to know these things to be able to fight. “I’m not sure how much nor how often she drinks.” The sound of scribbling filled the air again and it was becoming quite irritating.

“Has she ever spoken about her family having hereditary medical diseases?”

“She’s never said anything about that to me.” Another scribble.

“Do you know of any allergies she might have? Such as latex?” Cade asked.

Arthur looked to Cade, but the medic had his gaze down at his clipboard as if he hadn’t just asked a question with a clear underlying meaning. “I do not know of any allergies she has,” he answered as he leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees while his eyes drifted to the ground.

“Has she ever been pregnant or given birth?”

“Yes. She’s given birth once.”

“I see.” There was a long pause before the next question and Arthur found himself getting antsy; he just wanted to be alone. “And is there a chance she could be pregnant now?” Blue eyes snapped up to Cade again – but this time, the medic was staring right at him.

He knew.

They didn’t break eye contact, but the Elder allowed the question to mull over in his head for a few moments. It had been a little over a week since he’d came inside her in the showers, which would be much too soon for pregnancy detection, if that had done it; but it had been about two or three weeks since he’d accidentally cum inside her – partially? – the one morning they’d woken up early. He knew she and Danse had sex since he’d walked in on them lying in bed naked the morning after, but that would have been much too soon to detect, as well. And then Nora also admitted to having sex with MacCready, which was a while ago, though he was unsure if she was still doing it.

“It’s possible,” he confirmed.

Cade’s eyes never left Arthur. “And do you know who the father would be if she is, Elder?”

Arthur tipped his chin up just slightly and leaned back in his chair, allowing his legs to spread at the knees while he crossed his arms over his bare chest. Cade didn’t often play these games, but he was beating around the bush for a reason. “Just ask me, Cade.”

The medic cleared his throat. “As you wish. If Knight Nora Parker is pregnant, would the child be yours?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“I see.” The two words were filled with judgment and disappointment and it was making anger boil in his gut, and the continued scribbles Cade was making had the Elder wanting to tear that fucking paper up. “Well, as the sole medic onboard, it is my duty to speak about preventative measures when it comes to pregnancy – even with you.”

“If she’s pregnant, then I think we’re well past speaking about preventative measures.”

The knight-captain narrowed his eyes and studied the younger man before him, likely thinking it over; but he conceded and sighed. “Very well. I will test some of the blood I drew to see if she is, in fact, pregnant, and let you know immediately.”

“Wait, you’re worried she’s pregnant?” The familiar baritone voice boomed like thunder from the doorway and Arthur snapped his eyes over to see Danse standing there, brows furrowed and hair disheveled. He must have just woken up – at least he’d put clothes on. More than Arthur had done.

“I’m afraid I can’t—” Cade began, but Arthur cut him off.

“Do you mind giving us a moment, knight-captain?”

“Certainly, Elder,” the medic said with irritation in his tone before exiting, leaving the two alone.

Danse took over the now-vacant seat across from Arthur and the two men locked eyes for a moment, worry expressed over both their faces. “It wouldn’t be mine,” the paladin finally said.

Arthur snorted. “I know it wouldn’t, Danse. It wasn’t even a week ago.”

“No, I mean, we didn’t have sex.” The Elder’s eyebrows furrowed in question but Danse continued. “She wanted to drink because she was angry at you and I agreed to drink with her. We went through almost four bottles of whiskey and the only thing either of us even remembered by morning was just bits and pieces.” He ran a hand through his hair though it did nothing to straighten it out. “When we got to Goodneighbor, she went to the Memory Den before our mission but wouldn’t tell me what happened that night, so I went the evening we came back. Turns out we didn’t have sex at all.”

Danse leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, mimicking the way Arthur had been sitting minutes before when speaking to the knight-captain; brown eyes fell to the ground. “I think she was just so angry with you that she wanted to feel something and hurt you in the process, but she didn’t need to sleep with me to do that.” Arthur clenched his jaw and the paladin finally looked back up at him, meeting the blue gaze that was staring from across the room; but they only held eye contact for a few seconds before Arthur had to look away. Guilt was consuming him, and it was an ugly picture he didn’t want to show. “I told her we should stop and she just… cried and apologized like she knew what she was doing was wrong. And then she asked me to hold her, so I did.”

Whether Nora and Danse had actually slept together or not was no longer relevant because Arthur now knew he was the one who drove her to seek out another man, specifically to get back at him for how he’d hurt her. And not just that – he’d literally driven her into someone else’s arms for comfort because he’d denied her the emotional support she deserved. The Elder scratched at his beard, growing frustrated with himself. 

_Fuck._

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Arthur, but you need to start taking responsibility for what you’re doing.” Blue eyes flicked up and met with brown ones again. “Don’t give me that look. You’ve seen how she’s changed since you first met her.”

“… Yes, I have.”

“She is so damned determined to fix you, Arthur. You really need to figure out what you want.”

The Elder sighed and his shoulders drooped. He knew he was hurting her – but had he been hurting her far more than he’d initially thought? “I’m trying.”

“Do you want a future with her?” Danse asked.

Arthur’s eyes fell to the ground once more and his eyebrows furrowed. The question had been so simple in his own mind, yet when asked by someone like Paladin Danse, he could no longer immediately answer with a _’yes.’_ Then again, maybe it was because the tone in Danse’s voice was telling him to think it over before answering.

Did he want to have sex with her and her alone – and him be the only one she had sex with, as well?

Did he want to fall asleep with her in his arms every night, curled around her back, holding her tightly against his chest, only to wake up the same way each morning?

Did he want to finally understand what these feelings were and better himself specifically for _her?_

Did he want her to keep sneaking things into his room until it was no longer just _his_ room, but instead became _their_ room?

Yes, yes, yes, and yes.

But did he want to marry her and have children with her and see that pearly white smile for the rest of his life? Did he want a _future_ with Nora Parker?

Yeah, he did.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “The only time I ever even feel anything is either when I’m drunk or with her. I don’t have nightmares when she sleeps in my arms. I can’t get her out of my head no matter what I do, and she makes my entire fucking chest ache every time I think about her or see her. I don’t—” Arthur stopped, his eyebrows furrowing a bit more as he searched the metal floor for the words. Danse waited patiently, giving him time. “I don’t understand what she does to me. And I feel like I’ve lost control over everything since she’s stepped aboard this damn ship. But I think… I think I’m okay with that.”

“If she’s really what you want, then you need to be sure,” Danse replied quietly. “She’s stuck on you and the more you string her along, the worse it gets. I can see it in her personality, in the way she fights in the field, everything.” Arthur sighed at the paladin’s words and began rubbing his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids. “And you need to understand whatever you get of her in the bedroom isn’t everything she is, and if you decide to seek a future with her, then you need to be prepared to embrace it all. I’ve been in the field with her a lot and I’ve gotten to know her well; Nora is an amazing woman but she’s also goddamn _exhausting._ She’s clumsy and reckless and irrational and childish but she’s also loyal and ambitious and fierce and strong; and you can’t have only some of those qualities without the others.”

“I understand.” The Elder scratched his beard again, but Danse had learned what that meant long ago.

“I’m serious, Arthur,” Danse said, his tone snappy. “You need to be sure you actually want her before you decide; you can’t change your mind afterward. She’s lost a lot. And if you do decide you want to be with her, then you need to clearly explain to her what she should expect when it comes to being with an Elder of the Brotherhood.”

“I know. I’ll… I’ll take time to think on it. Thank you.”

Danse nodded his head and stood. “I’m going to get some breakfast before it gets cold. Do you want anything?” The older man had immediately gone back to his regular self – it was always so simple. Then again, maybe that was the life of a Brotherhood soldier.

“No, thank you.” Danse nodded again and turned to walk out, but Arthur found himself calling after his friend before he was gone. “Danse?” The paladin stopped in the doorway and turned. “I’m sorry about… everything that’s happened. Really.”

There was a long moment of silence as Danse’s brown eyes fell to the floor, his thick eyebrows crinkling in thought. Arthur studied him, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but there was no such luck. And then—

“I know, Arthur. And I accept your apology. It doesn’t make what you’ve done okay in the slightest, but I can see you’re trying, and I respect that. Thank you.”

Finally, someone accepted his apology. Maybe things would be alright.


	36. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are we doing here, Arthur?”
> 
> “Taking a break.”
> 
> “You don’t take breaks.”
> 
> “Today, I do.”

**Prydwen Internal Network  
Mail Terminal MX-001E**

**Fr: Elder Maxson MX-001E  
To: Paladin Danse DN-407P**

**sup bitch**

Nora spun around in the desk chair as soon as the bulkhead opened, her eyes wide when they met Arthur’s gaze. He stopped in the doorway and crinkled his brow, almost frozen in place as he realized he’d caught her doing something – the look of guilt was always clear on her face when she was caught – but he didn’t seem to be entirely sure _what_ he’d caught her doing.

“Hi, Arthur,” she squeaked, and even her _voice_ couldn’t cover up the fact she’d just been caught.

The Elder stepped into the room slowly and shut the door behind him, his eyes studying her up and down like he was trying to figure out just what he’d walked in on. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Oh, yeah, I know. I just got tired of resting.” A grin spread across her face at her choice of words, but Arthur just shook his head before dropping a thin folder on the table, apparently not humored by her hilarious pun. “Whatcha got there?” she asked.

“Nothing for you, Knight.”

A glare was shot his way. “You’ve imprisoned me in your quarters for the past two days and you won’t even tell me what’s in the folder that you _very clearly_ set on the table for me to see?” She caught the corner of his lips turn into a barely-visible smirk just like they had the first time she’d met him – she knew that look all too well.

“I’m going down to the airport at 1800 and you’ll be accompanying me. Ensure you’re ready by then.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to say please, ya know.”

He tipped his chin up a bit but seemed to concede for some reason. That was worrisome. “ _Please_ ensure you’re ready by then.”

But her grin returned, nonetheless. “Yes, sir.”

Arthur shot her a glare before turning around and opening the door to step back through, but before he shut it behind him, he leaned back inside to speak. “And Nora, do _not_ look in that folder. This is your only warning, because I will know if you do.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest as if she were pouting, but the second he closed the door and she heard the sound of his boots trailing off, she was on her feet. “Don’t look in the folder, my ass,” she growled before doing exactly that. She snatched it off the table, finding only a single piece of paper in it; but when she flipped it open, she could only purse her lips.

The word _’nosy’_ was written in all capital letters – and nothing else. Ah. That was why he emphasized not to do it - because he knew she would. So, Arthur had jokes, huh?

What a dick.

══════════════════

Alright, so maybe _’imprisoned me in your quarters for the past two days’_ wasn’t exactly accurate – Nora had definitely been allowed to leave his room to do whatever she wanted but he’d just _very strongly encouraged_ that she rest because she was still getting better. The moment she’d woken up in the medbay, Cade had went into some long explanation about how her body didn’t handle radiation the same way theirs did, which didn’t make entirely _too_ much sense to her considering the prewar world used fission cars and radioactive isotopes in food and drinks – but, hey, Cade was the doctor.

Still, even though she wasn’t taking radaway anymore, Arthur decided to torture her by making her stay on the Prydwen even though she’d about socked Teagan in the mouth again by the end of the first day. But perhaps going to the airport would give her a chance to breathe.

She found the Elder waiting on the observation deck, hands behind his back in parade rest as he stared out the giant windows in the same way a king would his kingdom. He already knew she was there – one, because she knew he was likely in that very spot so she made sure to be as noisy as possible when jumping from the ladder; and two, because Arthur was extremely observant, so even if she _wasn’t_ trying to be noisy as fuck, he’d still have known she was there somehow. That said, when she came up beside him, mimicking his stance as they stood alone on the deck, he wasn’t surprised to see her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“How are _you_ feeling?” Nora shot back. He gave her an irritated look from the corner of his eye, and she tried to keep herself from smiling as she stared out the window, but the feature was only made more apparent by her lips being squished in the attempt. He’d trapped her aboard his stupid blimp, and she was going to make him regret it.

“Mm. Come, we’re going to the airport,” he said before letting his arms fall to his sides as he turned and began to head to the flight deck. The vaultie followed after him, eager to finally get back on solid ground and out of her floating tomb. She’d had enough of it for a while.

“What are we doing down there?”

“You’ll see,” he said as they went through the bulkhead, exiting onto the flight deck.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“But you will be patient, regardless.”

Nora stopped in the middle of the deck, halting traffic of a few people who were behind her who, instead, had to squeeze around. She crossed her arms over her chest as he stood outside the vertibird, waiting for her to get in. “I’m not going unless you tell me.”

“Get in, Nora,” he ordered.

“Nope. Tell me first.”

The lancer in the vertibird was staring at them with a panicked look, likely unsure what the hell was happening – well, join in, buddy, because Nora had no idea, either.

Arthur tipped his chin up and clasped his hands behind his back while he slowly moved toward her.

Ah, fuck. She knew that walk and look. She tipped her head up in return and narrowed her eyes at him as he approached. They weren’t alone on the flight deck, so he wouldn’t do anything like grab her – but he didn’t have to actually _do_ anything to make her obey most of the time. It was all in his words and tone of voice.

When he reached her, those blue eyes bore down into her soul and she clenched her jaw; but he leaned down so his mouth was close to her ear and she had to resist the urge to either turn her head to kiss him or lean in and bite his earlobe. But the words he whispered made her bristle because _fuck_.

“If you don’t get in the vertibird right now, Nora, you won’t be leaving my quarters for another week and I’ll ensure you don’t cum the entire time, even when I fuck you so hard you can’t feel your legs. Do you understand me?”

He pulled away just enough to see her face and their eyes locked; her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. Fuck, this man just _did something_ to her. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl. Now, go on.” Arthur made a slight jerk of his head in the direction of the ‘bird before he stood up straight, and Nora immediately moved past him and got into it because what he just threatened her with did _not_ sound good – and Arthur typically kept his promises when it came to what he’d do to her during sex. Or what he wouldn’t do to her?

══════════════════

As soon as they were on solid ground, she walked with the Elder through the airport ruins where soldiers were scattered – at least until they reached the area where the metal barricades were set up. But he kept walking, and she glanced around, noticing there weren’t any soldiers following – there were supposed to be, right? If he was straying off by himself, wasn’t that bad? He was supposed to have protection and she didn’t have a gun.

“Arthur,” she called after him before catching up. These tall fucking men and their long ass strides were _exhausting_. “Are we going out alone?”

“Yes.” That was it? No explanation? Wow, okay.

“I don’t have my gun.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Where are we going?”

“This way.” He motioned in the direction they were walking – toward the water, but that didn’t tell her jack shit.

“I know which _direction_ we’re walking in. I meant _where_ are we going.”

Arthur stopped then and turned to face her, those damned eyes peering down at her with a warning that made her want to curl up and hide – or maybe bend over and let him ram his cock inside her. “Do you want to go back to the Prydwen?” he asked. But that tone told her she wouldn’t enjoy going back.

Nora pursed her lips. “No, Mr. Testy, I don’t,” she growled, “Let’s keep going _’this way.’”_ She waved her arm in the direction they’d been heading, just like he did, before stomping off that same way, hearing him follow. Maybe being stuck up there for so long was making her irritable; then again, Arthur was always irritable, so there was that.

They came upon the edge of the beach where the water met the sand after walking through the skeleton of an old plane and her eyes scanned around them to see if any mirelurks were nearby. However, nothing seemed to catch her attention – which was odd, because she remembered seeing mirelurks here when she and Danse cleared out Fort Strong.

Actually, scratch that, something did catch her attention – Arthur was taking off his battle coat. Unf.

“The area was already cleared a couple hours ago. It’s safe,” he assured her. She stared at him, though, her eyes looking him up and down in that tight black jumpsuit; the man certainly knew how to fill out clothes. But then he moved over to two chairs and a table that sat between them – how did she _completely_ miss them? – before draping his coat over one of the chairs and then sitting in it, leaning down to unlace his boots.

Wait, what?

Nora stood there, her jaw slack, eyebrows furrowed as she was watching him work on the first boot. He must have caught her confusion, however, because he glanced up at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“What are we doing here, Arthur?”

“Taking a break.”

“You don’t take breaks.”

“Today, I do.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before she spotted a cooler that was sitting on the table and that was enough to divert her attention for the time being. Quickly, the vault dweller moved over to it and slid it open, finding two Nuka-Colas inside with a single bottle of rum. And beside the cooler was two glasses, a cigar, an ashtray, and the gold flip-lighter she’d left in his room.

Oh, no.

“Arthur…”

“Nora.”

“We’ve talked about this. You’re stepping over the boundaries again, and you’re the one who made them.”

“There are no boundaries today.” He had pulled off both boots now, followed by his socks, and then sunk his feet into the sand. Oh, man, that looked like a good idea – but she couldn’t fall for it. She couldn’t let her guard down because she knew this man would be the fucking death of her.

“That’s not fair,” she said quietly.

He finally raised his eyes to her before patting his thigh. “Come here.”

Nora hesitated, unsure if she really wanted to obey, but she ended up slowly rounding the table and other chair before sliding into his lap, her legs falling on either side of his body as she faced him. His hands went to her thighs as he spoke.

“I have the rest of the night to myself and all I want to do is relax.” He began sliding his callused palms up her sides then, and even though she was wearing the damn Brotherhood uniform again, it still made her shiver. “Are you going to deny me that?”

Conflict washed over her features as she searched his face for a moment, looking for the trick he was playing on her. But eventually, she slowly shook her head. “No.”

One of his hands went up to her chin and he slid the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “Good girl,” he crooned. Why did it always sound so damn good when he praised her?

══════════════════

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked as he reached over to grab the cigar from the table without letting her leave his lap.

“That depends. Is it going to hurt our non-existent child?”

He froze at that and his eyes snapped to her, but she was staring right at him. He’d received the pregnancy test results the same day he’d taken her to see Cade but hadn’t actually told her anything about it – there was nothing to tell, anyway. But he should have known she’d go snooping and find out about it one way or another.

Nora was nothing if not nosy.

Arthur cleared his throat. “I don’t see why it would,” he said, trying to play along. Reaching behind him and into his coat pocket, he grabbed a pocketknife and flicked it open, then began slicing a v-shaped notch into the closed-end of the cigar. Nora’s eyes never left him, however, and he could feel the glare burning his skin in a way the sun nor radiation ever could.

“You’re really not going to explain yourself?”

“Do I need to?”

“Uh, yes? You literally did a pregnancy test on me without my consent _and_ never told me about it.”

He finished the notch and flipped the knife closed, sliding it back into his coat pocket. “You were sick, and we had to make sure.”

“We?”

“Mm.” Arthur snatched the lighter off the table and brought the cigar to his lips. “Yes, Cade and me.” The flame flicked before he set it just beneath the tip at an angle, then slightly rolled it and puffed a few times to ensure the entire thing was fully and evenly lit. He then slunk down in his chair some and tipped his head back against the headrest, Nora’s body moving down with his thighs as he did.

“Oh, of course, Cade. The creepy old guy who’s been asking me about my family medical history and my periods and all sorts of other shit that he doesn’t need to know.”

Well, he’d certainly not approved questions about menstrual cycles for his soldiers unless they went to the medic about them first. He’d have to have a talk with the knight-captain, then.

“I had no reason to tell you because nothing came of it.”

“You still should have. You shouldn’t even have taken it without my permission, but regardless, imagine if I thought I was pregnant and didn’t tell _you_.”

The cigar was between his thumb and forefinger now as he stared at her, eyes slightly narrowed while he searched for the answer she wanted. The idea of children might have been different between them. He wanted – _needed_ – an heir, and any idea that he might have one would be great news; Nora, however, was still looking for her son, so she may not have wanted another child at all yet. But her point still stood. He’d promised to communicate with her when it came to sex, and, by default, this extended into that.

“Very well,” he said before puffing the cigar slowly and releasing the smoke away from her, “You win. I should have told you and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

A triumphant smirk plastered the vault dweller’s face and she reached forward to pluck the cigar from his fingers, turning it to put it between her lips – but he was quick to take it back before she could breathe it in. She just glared at him. “Are you really about to tell me I can’t smoke?”

“I’m telling you not to smoke a cigar the way you smoke a cigarette, and I’m not convinced you know how to do that, either.” The glare turned into narrowed eyes and Nora pursed her lips, but he couldn’t hold back the slight smirk.

“Fine. Show me.”

Arthur shook his head and allowed a small smile to take over the smirk despite knowing the feature was lopsided; and even when her eyes dropped to how the side of his mouth upturned less on the end where his scar was than on the end where his scar was not, the sight of her smile at it helped to keep him from shying away. “Not tonight. I want to relax.” The cigar was back between his thumb and forefinger, held off to the side as his arm was leaned on the table.

“Hmm. And by relax,” her hands went to his chest, two fingers looping into the buckle at the top of his jumpsuit and pulling him forward to allow their lips to graze, “Do you mean you want to fuck me?” Nora’s eyes flicked down to his lips for a moment before they went back to meet his own blue ones.

The Elder raised his free hand to cup the back of her neck before he closed the gap between them, his lips pressing against hers in a slow kiss. She immediately devoured it, one of her hands sliding from his chest and onto the side of his neck, her nails gently pressing in right below his ear. But he broke the kiss after a moment and leaned back in his seat again, seeing how her cheeks were already tinted pink. “Not right now,” he answered quietly before bringing the cigar back to his lips, taking another slow puff before blowing the white smoke away from her again, then putting his arm back on the table.

“So, you’re saying I’m just gonna have to touch myself?”

“Be my guest.”

That must not have been the answer she was expecting, however, because she opened her mouth to protest but then snapped it shut; he knew she wouldn’t back down now – Nora enjoyed a challenge, and if that meant she was going to masturbate in his lap, then she’d damn well do it just to spite him.

══════════════════

Well, it was too late to back down now. Her hands moved away from him and went to her suit, undoing the dumb buckles and belts and zippers tantalizingly slowly before she showed him even just the smallest amount of skin. She watched how his eyes followed everything her hands did – slipping the suit off one shoulder, then the other, and finally pushing it down to her hips where it came to rest. One of her hands groped her own breast through her bra, the other snaking beneath her suit and between her legs.

If Arthur wanted to play games tonight, she would play some fucking games. And she would _win_.

Her fingers began to slowly move beneath her jumpsuit as if she were rubbing her clit, though she wasn’t actually doing it – still, his eyes remained fixed on them for a few moments, and she was rocking herself back and forth in his lap, pretending to grind down on her hand while making soft gasps and gentle moans. He’d slouched down in the chair enough earlier that she wasn’t directly on top of his dick, but she was close enough so her moving hips were rubbing the fabric of his clothes against it, and he was _definitely_ hard already.

Sky blue eyes finally darted back up to hers, finding that she hadn’t looked away from him at all. He took another puff of the cigar, blowing the white smoke away from her before resting his arm back on the table. Nora bit her lower lip and moved her fingers faster, squeezing her breast, letting those breathy moans out a bit louder and a bit longer as she pretended to get closer to her climax. He looked like he was eating it up, too – keeping eye contact with that _’I’m definitely gonna fuck the hell out of you later’_ look. Fuck, yes. She was gonna win this goddamn game.

And now, for the grand finale.

“Fuck, Arthur,” she breathed. The hand on her breast shot down to his thigh to steady herself and he made a noise at the feel of her nails digging in through his clothing. “I’m gonna cum. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” She made her legs tremble around his thighs as she rocked against her hand more, pretending to make those fast circles beneath the fabric of her jumpsuit – but hell, he never even looked away from her eyes, so she could have just been playing air guitar for all he knew. “Oh, fuck yes!” she moaned, her back arching and head tipping back as she pretended to ride her orgasm out.

And with fake heavy breaths, she tipped her head forward again and looked at him – but there was a huge fucking grin on his face, just as lopsided as usual. But… why? She tried to keep playing it and collapsed against his shoulder, breathing heavily into his neck. And then he laughed.

He fucking _laughed._

Alright, game’s over.

Nora sat up and glared at him. “Why are you laughing!?”

“I’ve given you enough orgasms to know what you look, sound, and feel like when you cum, Nora.”

Oh. Well, shit.

The vaultie huffed and collapsed against his shoulder again, grumbling into his neck; but strong arms wrapped around her and only then did she notice the cigar was set into the ashtray so he could hold her tightly against him. Her own arms snaked around his middle, her face shifting to rest against his chest rather than his shoulder. She was still nearly half-naked, but they were alone, so that was fine.

Thick silence hung in the air for a long while as the sun was nearly gone behind the horizon, leaving shades of purples and blues in its wake. The distant sounds of voices were still around, but they were faint. And the more Nora thought about it, the more she realized it had been a _long time_ since she’d been with someone like this – cuddling, spending time outside of the bedroom, almost like… 

“Arthur,” she whispered against his chest.

“Mm?”

She hesitated before asking. “Is this a date?”

He didn’t answer at first and that made her heart sink. He’d gone out of his way to do all of this and it _wasn’t_ actually a date? Then what was the point? Why bring her here if it wasn’t as a date or for sex, like he’d originally said that’s all they were meant to do together? But when he tilted his head so his cheek rested against her temple, she couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“I suppose it is,” he finally answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure y'all have earned yourselves some fluff. it's only, what, chapter 36?


	37. Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if someone finds us?”
> 
> “They won’t.”
> 
> “We both know you’re very loud during sex, Arthur.”
> 
> “Then I should probably stay quiet, wouldn’t you agree?”

By the time Arthur had poured them a mix of rum and Nuka-Cola in both glasses, the full moon was the only thing illuminating the beach. In the distance, flood lights shone around the metal barriers that blockaded the airport and the Prydwen floated bright in the sky with its own set of security lights detailing its enormous existence. 

Nora had remained in his lap with her face against his chest, completely ignoring the other chair as if it didn’t even exist – then again, he’d only brought it to be polite with the assumption she may want some space at first. He preferred she sat in his lap, of course, but he wouldn’t have _forced_ her to. 

The glass of rum and Nuka-Cola was held out for her and she gladly took it, sitting up to take a sip and crinkling her nose at the taste before nodding her head in approval. The Elder could only allow a small smile to take over his face – a feature most people never saw from him, but Nora was not most people; she’d managed to coax at least three smiles thus far tonight, and it was still early.

He’d long forgotten about his cigar as it burned in the ashtray – which was fine; it wasn’t one of the cigars Nora had left in the room so there was no real loss in letting it burn out.

The vaultie took a second sip before setting her glass down and relaxing her head against his shoulder. One of her hands slid up, fingers threading into his beard so her nails could graze against his jaw, which made him let out a soft noise that was almost a purr as he allowed his head to fall back to enjoy the sensation of her touch. But then she began running her fingers beneath his chin – the underside of it, specifically – as if she were feeling for something, and when she started pressing her fingertips into certain spots under his beard, he could only furrow his eyebrows. 

“What are you doing, pet?”

“Trying to see if you have any baby fat under your beard.” Arthur let out an annoyed grunt. “Oh, sorry. Baby muscle?”

His hand snatched her wrist and he brought her palm to his lips, kissing it gently. “Why must you always test my patience?”

The familiar grin spreading across her face was apparent against his shoulder. “Because it’s fun and you’re cute when you get frustrated with me. And because I’m older than you and sort of robbing the cradle.”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“You’ve been fucking me for _how long_ and you don’t know my age?” She made a tsking noise and he grunted again. “I’m twenty-seven. Or, well, two-hundred thirty-seven, if we’re being technical.

“Mm. And yet I’m the one who gets called ‘Elder.’”

“Wooow, you seem to think you’re real fuckin’ funny today, don’t you?”

“My wit often goes unappreciated, unfortunately.”

Nora sat up then, her eyes locking with his as she shot him a playful glare; but soon after, her gaze drifted elsewhere on his face – to one of his scars. Her hand raised and she trailed her fingers over the slender mark just above his left eyebrow, though rather than asking about it, she just silently observed and felt the indentation on his skin. The Elder almost pulled away from her touch – because if there were two things Arthur grew his beard out for it was to make himself look older so his crew wouldn’t see him as a child and to hide and distract from some of the grotesque scars that covered his face.

But Nora had never once looked at them – not really. Perhaps a glance when they first met but she’d never kept her gaze on them, nor had she ever asked for the stories. And for as long as they’d been fucking and for as many times as she’d seen his marred body that was littered with pale pink lines and salmon pink puckered skin from a past of being a soldier, she’d never once dared to ask. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t care to hear the stories or some other reason, but all he could do now was just stare at her while she gently traced the scar above his left eyebrow, and then trailed her fingers down to trace the one on his left cheek.

Her fingers only grazed their lengths, and he had trouble determining whether she was admiring the marks or just trying to learn them as well as she knew the Commonwealth. 

“Why haven’t you asked?” His voice was quiet, but he never took his eyes off her. He couldn’t.

“About what?” she questioned, her fingers then moving to the scar that went through his right eyebrow. Her touch was so soft, coming from fingers with no calluses that were well taken care of before she was thrust into this world without her consent.

“The scars. You’ve seen them all, but you’ve never asked about them. Not once.” Her hand finally fell to the large gift he’d received from a mother deathclaw at the age of thirteen, where she’d mauled him after killing the rest of his squad. Nora traced her thumb over its length and he even found himself turning his head to allow her to see it all as it disappeared beneath his facial hair – but internally cursed himself for doing it.

“Because I figured if you wanted to tell me their stories, you would,” she answered. It was so simple, wasn’t it? _Too_ simple. And he did want to tell her, but she could have gone to any terminal on the Prydwen and read about his exploits from when he was just a child; his life was well-documented. And yet, she apparently hadn’t.

“Do you want to know about them?” he asked.

“Sure. But I only want to know what you want to tell me. These scars are yours and yours alone; they speak of your fight through life, so you decide what I should know and when I should know. Nothing more, nothing sooner.”

Her fingers were tracing over the stitched scars and Arthur slowly began to undo his jumpsuit, sliding it off his shoulders and tugging his undershirt up above his head to bare his chest and stomach to her. Royal blue eyes lowered, first spotting the scar that spoke of a bullet hole that had once been present in his right shoulder, but now only held mangled and puckered skin colored salmon pink. Her fingertip traced its ridged edges before dipping into the center, feeling its similarity to a crater that might be found on the moon or even in the center of the Glowing Sea. 

Arthur closed his eyes, allowing his head to tip back against the chair again while she paid attention to the parts of his body people had always avoided. She trailed her hands down a set of slashes that peeked out from beneath the hair on his pectoral, her fingers gently moving along the slashes as if she’d made them herself.

He sighed at the feeling; it was a new sensation. “Yao guai,” he said quietly.

Nora nodded and made a small noise in acknowledgement before moving on to other marks along his chest and stomach. She found most of his scars, though there were some that were hidden upon his back or elsewhere that she hadn’t looked, but his body was already tingling by the time she even got halfway done through the ones she _did_ find.

Before he knew it, Nora’s lips were on his throat, placing soft kisses against the tender skin just beneath his beard line and it only made him release a quiet moan that disappeared in the air. Her hands splayed on his chest, slowly rubbing up and down through the thick hair and leaving behind burning skin that ached for more of her touch; and when she let those same hands go to his shoulders, only for delicate fingers to gently dig into the muscles that were always sore, he almost melted like a glob of brahmin butter in the chair.

The vault dweller massaged his shoulders from her position in his lap and his eyebrows furrowed as he let out soft sighs from the feeling, his hands gently placing upon her thighs and stroking up and down them. She paid his hands no mind, however, and was solely focused on him – because, apparently, when he’d said he wanted to relax, she took it that he _really wanted to fucking relax._

Kisses were trailed from his throat to the base of his ear and he tipped his head for her, offering more of himself – something he’d never done with anyone before her because his neck and throat were such vulnerable places, and the Elder making himself vulnerable was not a smart move. Her tongue gently licked beneath the lobe and it made him shiver; but she whispered to him right after, the sound of her voice just barely louder than the waves that were crashing against the shore around them.

“Can I mark you?”

Arthur almost moaned at her words, _and then_ almost told her she could mark him anywhere and everywhere; but he knew that was a lie. Then again, that didn’t mean she couldn’t mark him at all. “Nowhere visible,” he replied, and he felt her grin against his neck just like before.

She placed more kisses to his skin, trailing them down to his collarbone until she found a spot she liked best and sucked it between her teeth, biting down. Arthur moaned and dug his fingers into her thighs at the intensity of being bitten. When she released him, she placed gentle kisses to the mark that would now turn into a bruise before admiring her work; and then her lips found another spot and she bit down – and then another, and another, and another. And by the time she was done, she’d littered his collarbone and the upper part of his chest with bruises from bites and sucks that were hard enough to hurt but pleasurable enough to make him crave more.

Nora had shifted up in his lap to be straddling his hips and not his thighs, her groin rubbing against him, and he felt the heat between her thighs against his aching cock even through their clothes. She trailed kisses up his collarbone and throat until she made it to his lips, where she coaxed him into a slow, passionate kiss that left him wanting.

Since she hadn’t bothered to pull her suit back up, Arthur had easy access to reach behind her and unclasp her bra, sliding it off her shoulders and tossing it into the sand. His hands hooked beneath her ass and he brought himself to his feet, taking her with him and making her wrap her arms over his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Once she was fairly secure against him, he reached back and grabbed his coat off the chair before moving a bit away from the seat and a little closer to the water. 

He gently set her down on her feet near the spot he’d chosen and then laid his coat down on the sand, the inside of it facing up, before turning back to her and planting his lips against hers once again. She made a small noise against him before mumbling _’really?’_ into the kiss.

“Mm, yes,” he mumbled back before pulling her tightly against his body.

She broke the kiss then, both of them panting but they remained close. “It’ll get dirty.”

“Then I’ll clean it,” he replied. His hands were pushing her jumpsuit down and his lips were at her neck now, placing soft kisses beneath her ear before he bit down and marked her. She moaned and pushed at his own suit, and he was quick to kick his off before doing the same to hers.

Arthur then picked her up and lowered himself to one knee, and then the other, on top of his coat; he laid her back with his hips flush between her thighs, his mouth still at her neck. His body began grinding on her, the head of his cock just barely pushing between her outer labia but not actually entering her. She tilted her head back and moaned, one of her hands going to the side of his head so her fingers were teasing the short hairs on his scalp while the other went to his shoulder, nails digging in the flesh there.

But then Nora suddenly pushed him back a little, tearing his lips away from her neck, though he just forced his way to her collarbone instead. “What if someone finds us?” she asked.

“They won’t,” he mumbled against her skin.

“We both know you’re very loud during sex, Arthur.”

The Elder couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at her obvious lie. “Then I should probably stay quiet, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Mm. I guess that’s fair,” she said before gasping when he bit her nipple and gently tugged. One of his hands snaked down between her legs, replacing how his cock was rubbing against her and instead sinking two fingers into her pussy. She was wet – her cunt was just begging him to fuck her. But he wanted to do things differently tonight; she wasn’t his sub right now. She was something more. _They_ were something more.

Nora moaned gently at the intrusion and flexed her hips up against him; his hand began moving back and forth slowly, fingers just barely brushing against that bundle of nerves hidden inside her. He soon added a third finger and she was a moaning mess even though she was trying to keep it down – the last thing either of them needed was someone stumbling over to their little hideout and discovering them while they were both bare ass naked fucking in the sand.

Arthur’s fingers crooked inside her and she gasped, her hand leaving his scalp to cover her mouth with her palm as she let out a low moan that surely would have been loud if she hadn’t stopped herself. His blue eyes met hers and the intensity of their eye contact made his cock ache; he wanted her so bad, but he wanted to make sure she was ready and that she’d cum first. He wanted to take care of her. 

He climbed up her body while keeping his fingers inside her and pumping them in and out as the pads rubbed against that sensitive spot; his free hand pulled her palm from her mouth and instead he replaced it with his lips, devouring the moans she released. His hips were grinding gently against her thigh, and she’d even slotted one of them between his own to let him grind a bit more as he was bringing her close to her climax. And when she tightened around his fingers and her moans grew louder against him, he knew she was coming; her thighs trembled beneath his body and the one between his legs only stimulated his cock and balls as he ground himself harder against her. The Elder made soft moans onto her lips, though it was nowhere near enough to counter the sound of hers; but before she even finished coming, her lips broke from his and her head tipped back.

“Fuck, Arthur,” she moaned, though it was clearly strained since she was trying not to be loud.

“Shh.” His lips dropped to her jaw, placing gentle kisses there as she rode her orgasm out beneath him. He soon pulled his hand away before slotting himself completely between her thighs, grinding his cock against her slit once more; his fingers raised to her mouth and, like usual, she opened them and took the digits in, licking and sucking them clean. Kisses were still placed against her jaw as she did, and once she finished cleaning them, he let them slip free.

“Please fuck me,” she whispered.

Arthur almost moaned at her words because when Nora was begging him to fuck her – especially when he didn’t have to even tell her to beg – it was just an incredible sound. But he obliged and shifted his hips, slowly pushing into her. He rocked back and forth to ease in because seating himself in one go wasn’t always a pleasurable experience for her, even after fingering her. 

By the time he was hilted, they were both panting, and their lips were just mere inches away from one another. He was leaning on his elbows, pressing their bodies close while he kept their hips locked; and both pairs of blue eyes stared at one another, each filled with insurmountable lust.

Nora shifted her hips after a moment, spreading her thighs a little more and pulling them up so he had a different angle, but he didn’t start moving yet – instead, he pressed his lips to hers again, pulling her into yet another kiss that he knew he could get lost in. Nothing around them mattered anymore – the waves crashing among the beach were no longer hitting his ears; the sound of soldiers in the airport not that far away who might end up wandering over to discover them meant nothing to him; and even the idea of an enemy stumbling upon them didn’t seem to faze him. What mattered right then and there was him and Nora.

But the vaultie was impatient and her hips started rocking against him, demanding friction on her clit by rubbing against his groin and making herself moan onto his lips. He made a soft noise in response before he pulled his cock out and then pushed back in, keeping his thrusts slow at first. It certainly wouldn’t be enough to get either of them off – both of them were used to being rough and aggressive during sex – but he enjoyed watching her squirm beneath him, wanting more but just a little too prideful to beg for it until she finally couldn’t take it anymore and gave in.

And when she grew impatient— “Arthur,” she breathed, and his lips found her neck in response. “Harder.”

“Mm. Are you sure?” he asked, though his voice was teasing. He hoped she was sure.

“Please, baby,” she whined. There was that pet name – the one he’d heard in his dreams two different times. Only this time, it wasn’t a dream – it was real. It made him moan against her skin and he could almost feel her grin fill the air, threatening to drown him more than the radiated sea ever could.

She noticed.

His hips pulled away slowly before snapping back, and she let out a sharp cry that was much too loud for their current location. His hand shot up to cover her mouth. “Shh, shh, shh. You need to keep it down, pet. If you can’t control the noise, then neither of us will be finishing. Do you understand?” Nora nodded her head and he released her mouth.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” Arthur crooned before he began kissing her jaw again. His hips pulled back slowly once more before snapping forward again, and he heard her let out a muffled cry – much better. As much as he loved hearing her scream, especially when she screamed his name, she couldn’t be so loud here.

The Elder pushed to prop himself up on his hands rather than his elbows, bending his knees a bit more and then setting a steady pace. He wasn’t taking her very roughly, but it was enough to keep them both satisfied for the time being. Her arms were curved beneath his, hands splayed near the middle of his back with her nails digging in just slightly; her legs wrapped around his hips, urging him to fuck her faster and harder, but he knew if he did then she’d start keening and he’d want to let her – and that wouldn’t be good.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, and she immediately slipped a hand down between their bodies and her legs to rub her clit. He looked down to see his cock disappear and reappear while her fingers rubbed fast circles on the swollen nub; and when his eyes raised back to hers, she was staring at him and biting her lower lip.

“You don’t usually touch yourself when we fuck. Do you prefer when you do it or when I do it?” Her body shivered beneath him.

“You.”

“Tell me why,” he commanded as he snapped his hips hard against her; he felt the head of his cock hit her cervix and she held back a yelp.

“Because I like it when you touch me and – _fuck_ – you know just how to make me cum.” Her legs began trembling around him and she drew them closer to her body.

“Do you want me to touch you instead?”

“ _Mmm._ Yes. Please, sir, touch me. Make me cum.”

Arthur shifted so he was leaning on one hand and reached the other down between them, his thumb taking over for her and rubbing quick circles around her clit. It only took a few moments before she came and his hand shot up to cover her mouth with his thumb on one side and four fingers on the other – but rather than not helping her ride out her orgasm, his hips were snapping harder against hers over and over, and the sounds of their groins slapping together managed to override the sound of everything else, including the muffled scream she was making against his palm.

But he was getting close as he felt her cunt pulsing around him, threatening to milk him of every last drop of cum he could muster. She grabbed his wrist and pulled it free from her mouth, her breathing heavy as she was panting and still coming down from that post-orgasm high. “Are you close?” she asked, her hips rolling with each thrust he made.

“Yes.”

Nora sat up then, forcing his cock to slip free from her cunt. The Elder shifted back a little before sitting up on his knees; he went to stroke himself before the feeling of being close to an orgasm went away but she was quicker. Both of her hands found their way to his cock, prewar fingers wrapping around him and quickly stroking so every inch of him received attention. He watched her hands for a moment, taking in the sight of just how _good_ it looked to see her small fingers wrapped around his thickness – a thickness she keened because of. But when his eyes flicked up to her face, he saw her staring up at him, teeth nibbling her lower lip.

“Cum for me, Arthur,” she breathed and that sent him over the edge.

He moaned as he came, his seed spurting onto her chest and belly like he was laying claim to property by marking – and some primal part of him knew he was. If she smelled of sex and Arthur Maxson while baring the bruises on her throat that he left her as gifts, then no one would dare touch her.

She was his now. For good.

Arthur leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand raising to cup her jaw; but the kiss broke after a few seconds since they were breathing heavily. Still, he kept their foreheads together and watched as a mischievous smirk slowly took over her mouth. Nora’s hand started moving and his gaze dropped, though he never pulled away from her; his eyes watched as she used two fingers to scoop up some of his cum from her chest and then brought it to her mouth. Her tongue lolled out and she licked it from her fingers and the mere sight of the white substance on that pink muscle made him want to fuck her all over again. 

They’d be tired tomorrow, surely.


	38. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can we still shower?” she asked.
> 
> “I have a workday to start, Nora,” he grumbled, “I don’t have time for games.”
> 
> The vaultie furrowed her eyebrows and sat up on the edge of the bed, glaring at him as he was pulling out clothes still. Is that what he thought of their time together? As a game? 
> 
> Alright. She’d play a fucking game.
> 
> Nora slowly began undoing her jumpsuit, being sure to do it as loudly as possible by clanking buckles together. “So, I’ll be showering alone, then?”

Arthur’s breathing was slow and steady as he slept and each exhale tickled the hair on the back of her neck, though she wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything in the world. Her back was tucked perfectly into his chest as he was curled behind her, his strong arms wrapped around her body tightly – he always held onto her for dear life throughout the night, and she wondered if doing that was what helped protect him from his nightmares whisking him away into more battles he had to relive over and over and over again.

She’d managed to free herself from his hold without waking him, allowing him to snooze on the bed by himself, his back to the room, still in the same position on his side as if she’d never left. Nora fumbled around in the dark looking for her clothes, having not yet received her pip-boy from Ingram so she was unable to use the light it provided and instead was trying to go off memory on where everything in the room was located and thrown. She felt around with her feet for her clothes – bra, jumpsuit… underwear? Ah, underwear—nope, not hers. Wait, there they were. 

It didn’t take long to pull her clothes on, however, before she was heading to the door to go grab some clean ones to come back and shower. But when she opened the bulkhead, she came face-to-face with Proctor Ingram, who had her fist raised like she was about to knock. It took everything within the vaultie not to scream or yelp at the sudden sight of someone on the other side, and from the looks of it, Ingram was feeling the same way. But the proctor regained herself much quicker as Nora put a hand to her own chest, trying to keep herself quiet and from having a heart attack. But blue eyes raised to be met with a grin.

“He asleep?”

She glanced behind herself and back into the room, the hallway providing just enough light for her to see him – he hadn’t budged. Arthur was still lying on his side, back to the room, legs slightly curled as if she were still lying against him – but that meant his bare ass was completely in view. The man never slept with blankets covering him since he was a hot sleeper, and he put out enough body heat throughout the night to keep her warm, as well. But hot sleepers never made any sense to her.

When she turned back to Ingram, the proctor was peeking into the room, as well, her eyebrows slightly raised; but Nora couldn’t tell if it was because she was admiring that Arthur had a nice fucking ass or if she was surprised he was still asleep this late in the morning.

Either way, Nora felt her cheeks growing a bit hot even though blushing was not a common thing for her.

“Yeah, he’s sleeping,” she confirmed in a low tone before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

“ _Long_ night, huh?” Ingram asked; Nora’s face turned bright fucking red and it only made the other woman laugh. “Alright, alright. Sorry. Anyway, here’s your pip-boy back. Not entirely sure what happened but the Geiger counter and dosimeter were both malfunctioning, so they didn’t read any radiation at all. I fixed those up and tested them a few different times at different levels to make sure they worked properly. Should be fine now.”

The vault dweller beamed at that, glad they were off the topic of her and Arthur’s sex life – even though it was just a subtle hinting toward it – and that she finally had her trusty pip-boy back. Well, mostly trusty. Immediately, she snapped it onto her arm, running her fingers over it before turning it on; it went through its loading screen and firmware updates before greeting her with the familiar white words she’d come to depend on.

“Thank you so much, Ingram. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the proctor said as she waved a metal-clad hand in the air. “But there is one other thing. I’ve tried a bunch of different things to decode this Courser chip, but I just don’t have the technology to do it here. I think you’ll need someone who either has Institute technology or who can adapt to working with it, and I’m afraid I don’t know who might be able to do that.”

Nora crinkled her eyebrows, her fingertip tapping the tip of her nose; but when she caught Ingram watching the gesture and smiling, she stopped and let her arm drop. “I’ll figure something out. I might have some contacts who can lead me in the right direction. But thanks for trying, I appreciate it.”

The proctor nodded her head. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” she said before turning and heading back toward the power armor bay. Nora looked to the ground, thinking for a moment before she called after the proctor.

“Actually, Ingram,” she began, and the older woman turned to look at her. “Do you wanna make a bet?”

══════════════════

Nora had grabbed a clean set of clothes from her bunk before making her way back to Arthur’s room, sneaking in when no one was really paying attention and trying to remain as quiet as possible so as not to wake the sleeping Elder. She clicked on the white light of the pip-boy to illuminate the dark room and was half-relieved to find his naked body still sleeping in the bed rather than standing next to her or something, because that was definitely some old horror movie shit that would end up being the way she died, or whatever. It would be her luck to have a ridiculous death after surviving all sorts of horrible shit in this world; maybe something like getting killed and her body used in an art exhibit or tripping and falling off a cliff to her doom. 

The vaultie set her things down on the table and made her way to the bed, gently climbing onto it on all fours and moving over Arthur’s legs. He began to stir once the bed dipped, but as soon as she started placing kisses to his bare hip, he started to wake beyond that. A soft noise escaped his throat and he slowly turned his head, blue eyes looking down at her to meet her own as she gazed up at him and placed a few more kisses against his skin. He rolled onto his back and she couldn’t help but smile up at him, then trailed those same kisses up his body until she finally reached his lips. 

“Morning,” she said into the kiss.

“Mm. Morning.” Callused hands were stroking her sides through her jumpsuit, making her shiver.

“Wanna shower?”

“Yes,” he answered while nipping her lower lip, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts through her suit and lazily grope them. “What time is it?”

Nora found herself grinding her hips down on his already as he groped her chest, but she knew the answer to his question was about to change the situation. “Don’t be mad,” she whispered into the kiss, “But it’s half past nine.”

Just as expected, he pulled away from her with a curse before nudging her off and sitting up. The Elder flicked on the light switch near his nightstand and glanced at the clock to ensure it was, in fact, half past nine, before getting up to get clean clothes.

Nora whined and fell onto her side on the bed, watching him quickly move around the room as he went to his dresser to get dressed for the day.

“Can we still shower?” she asked.

“I have a workday to start, Nora,” he grumbled, “I don’t have time for games.”

The vaultie furrowed her eyebrows and sat up on the edge of the bed, glaring at him. Is that what he thought of their time together? As a game? 

Alright. She’d play a fucking game.

Nora slowly began undoing her jumpsuit, being sure to do so as loudly as possible by clanking buckles together and very slowly unzipping. “So, I’ll be showering alone, then?”

══════════════════

Arthur glanced over to her from where he stood by the dresser just as he shut the drawer but did a double take when he noticed she was revealing inch after inch of skin. She unzipped her jumpsuit all the way down to her navel, baring a strip of skin to him before slowly opening it to show her cleavage, and Arthur could only think about how she’d stroked his cock last night until he came all over that exact same area – during their first go, of course. During the second one, he came on her stomach; and the third, he wanted to cum on her face, but she wasn’t having that since they were at the beach and she couldn’t properly wash it off, so instead, he came in her mouth. Still, the memory of how his cum slid down her chest before she’d gathered it up and licked it off her fingers—

“Get in the shower,” he ordered.

Nora grinned victoriously before standing and sauntering past him, making her way toward the bathroom – but not before being grabbed by the wrist and hip and thrown against the dresser. Her arm was twisted behind her back painfully and Arthur used his free hand to grab the back of her neck, slamming her down hard onto the wood with a _thump_ while his bare body pressed against her clothed one as he bent over her back.

Her eyes were wide and brows furrowed as she tried to look at him from the corner of her eye while her cheek was pressed to the wooden furniture beneath her, and Arthur shifted himself just a bit more to the side so she could see his face better. She was breathing slightly heavily, the wind having been knocked out of her from how hard he’d slammed her against the dresser; plus, pressing his body weight against her back probably wasn’t helping.

“Arthur?” she whispered; the panic was clear in her voice.

“Did you turn the alarm off?” he growled. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit more, but she didn’t answer. “I asked you a fucking question, pet. Answer me.”

“Yes, sir,” she admitted in a whisper.

The hand on the back of her neck went into her hair and grabbed a fistful of the red locks, shifting her head so she was looking forward rather than having it turned and then yanking it back. “Don’t ever pull that shit again, do you understand me?” Nora nodded her head as much as she could. _“Do you understand me, Nora?”_

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised as he let her head go forward a bit so he could press a couple kisses to her neck where he knew yanking her head like that would have strained the muscles. But she must have thought she was forgiven completely since she let her body relax. She was mistaken. “Do I need to spank you for you to learn your lesson?”

The vaultie hesitated, seeming to think it over, and he gave her time to do so. He knew she enjoyed being spanked but she still always thought before she answered. “Maybe a few times,” she admitted quietly.

“Take your clothes off and get in the shower,” he ordered.

Her eyebrows furrowed again and even after he let her go and stood up, removing his weight from her body, she remained bent over the desk, seeming to let the words mull around in her head until they clicked. And once she realized what she’d just walked into, her eyes grew wide. “Wait, no, not while—”

“You’ve worked your way up to four spanks and you know I don’t swat gently.”

The vault dweller’s jaw snapped shut and she pushed herself to stand up straight, her face filled with confliction as she stomped her way into the bathroom like a petulant child. Arthur followed and reached into the shower to turn the water on, then returned his attention to her to watch her undress; her face was red, and her jaw was still clenched, like she was biting back from saying something because she knew it would only add more spanks to how many she’d receive.

When she was naked, she turned to face him, her eyes in a sort of glare that she was lucky he chose to ignore. “Get in,” he ordered. Nora obeyed without question, stepping into the shower and letting the lukewarm water wet her hair and skin though she kept her back to him as he followed. “Put your hands on the wall and bend forward.” She did, and when the fingertips of his left hand gently touched her left ass cheek, stroking the now-wet skin softly, she jumped, as if she expected the swat right away.

She should have known he was right-handed.

══════════════════

Nora let out a loud yelp as his right hand came down on her right ass cheek; she was expecting it even less than when he touched her left one gently. The pain of being spanked by a man who had enough power behind his swats and didn’t hold back when he made them, combined with the water that covered her skin, made it nearly unbearable. Her nails dug into the wall, the keratin scratching against the tile hard enough to almost break them.

His fingers began soothing the area he’d smacked, and she let out a ragged breath, her eyes shutting tightly as tears formed in them. Arthur placed soft kisses to the back of her shoulder, his wet beard leaving a tickling sensation against her skin, but she was unable to enjoy it due to the pain on her rear.

“Count,” he commanded.

“O-one.”

His body shifted behind her, so she was more prepared for the second spank, though it didn’t hurt any less. Nora let out another sharp yelp that echoed off the bathroom walls, and just like last time, his fingers smoothed over the skin that was probably going to be red and sore for _at least_ a few hours. More soft kisses were pressed to the back of her shoulder. 

“Two,” she whispered.

“Louder,” he growled; the hand that was rubbing the red mark on her skin squeezed instead, making her body tense.

“Two!” She couldn’t keep her voice from cracking.

Both of his hands were smoothing over the red marks on each cheek as gentle kisses were trailed from her shoulder to just beneath her ear before he spoke softly into it. “Do you want me to stop?” Tears had already fallen down her face by then, but he couldn’t see them — and she was glad about that. Crying over getting spanked — especially by a man who was seven years her junior — made her feel quite childish. Still, she didn’t answer at first, but he kept stroking over the spots he’d hit, regardless. “Nora, if it hurts too bad, I’ll stop. Just say the word.”

The vault dweller let out a shaky breath after a moment before gently shaking her head. “No, I want it. Just… not so hard. Please. The water makes it worse.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

A low rumble came from his chest and she felt it against her shoulder, but one hand removed itself from her rear and slipped around to gently touch her chin, turning her head so he could capture her lips in a kiss. Nora devoured it, her body seeming to relax from his comforting gesture; and when it broke, his lips found her shoulder again, where he spoke against her skin. “Two more, pet.”

His body shifted a bit before he pulled back his hand again; Nora clenched her teeth, preparing herself for more brutalizing against sensitive skin – but when he spanked her this time, it was with much less force. It still hurt, especially since he’d already spanked her there, but he’d listened to her request and not swatted her as hard. And yet, she still made a pained noise, though it wasn’t the same as the yelp she’d made before.

“Three.” His fingers smoothed over the area again, though this time they remained a little longer than before. And when he gave the last spank, her ass felt like the skin was on _fire_. “F-Four.” He soothed it with his fingers again and placed kisses on her shoulder.

“Good girl,” Arthur crooned. “You did very well.”

Nora sighed, her head dropping just a bit as his lips grazed over the top of her spine. “Thank you, sir.”

“And since you did so well, I’ll let you choose how I make you cum.” 

She bit her lower lip as she considered the options. She didn’t think she could handle getting fucked right now – her ass hurt from being spanked. But when she thought about last night and how she confessed she preferred when he touched her instead of when she did it, she knew what she wanted.

“Finger me, please.”

“Pet,” he warned.

“Finger me, please, _sir.”_

“Mm. Very well.” Arthur shifted to stand at her side, facing her, but when she attempted to remove her hands from the wall, she felt his own grab her chin. “I didn’t say you could move,” he growled. The vaultie bit her lower lip as she pressed her hands back to the tile.

“I want to touch you,” she said quietly.

“Do you, now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ask.”

The Elder released her chin and she turned her eyes to him, meeting his blue ones with her own. “Please let me touch you, sir. I want to stroke your thick cock while your fingers are buried inside my pussy.”

“Mm. That’s my girl,” he crooned as he placed a kiss on her shoulder. She felt a jolt of heat pool between her thighs at his words; he’d only ever called her ‘pet’ and praised her with ‘good girl,’ but this praise seemed different. More personal.

He shifted around her again, this time to stand in front of her with his back pressed to the wall while he leaned down to kiss her roughly. One of his hands snaked between her legs, a single finger stroking the outside of her folds before dipping in to only the first knuckle. Nora made a soft whine from the teasing and wrapped her fingers around his cock; he was already hard from having disciplined her.

His finger pushed in the rest of the way, only to be pulled out so he could add a second one and push them both in to the last knuckle. She let out a soft moan and squeezed his cock in her hands, then slowly began to stroke. But as his movements sped up to where he was thrusting the two fingers in and out, his palm rubbing against her clit, she wasn’t really stroking him much. Instead, she was distracted by how damn good his hands felt on her – the one between her legs and the one that was now in her hair, holding a fistful and making her stare up at him as he fucked her with his fingers.

But soon, her thighs began to tremble around his hand, and he only sped up his movements, slamming the two fingers inside her over and over again so the sound of how wet she was combined with how rough he was finger-fucking her could be heard over the running water.

“How bad do you want to cum, pet?”

“Really bad, sir,” she breathed.

“Convince me.”

Nora moaned and shivered. “Please make me cum, sir. You make me so wet and – _fuck_ – I want to cum all over your hand. Please, sir. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Arthur crooked his fingers and pressed the tips against that sensitive bundle of nerves. “Be a good girl and cum for me,” he growled. It sent her straight over the edge and she let out a loud moan, her cunt pulsing around his fingers as she came. But he didn’t slow down and instead kept thrusting his fingers in and out of her, the wet sounds still _very_ audible over the showerhead. 

The vault dweller collapsed against him, the side of her face buried in his chest as she was breathing heavily and coming down from that post-orgasm high. His fingers slipped out and, after she regained herself, she pushed away from his chest a little to look up at his face and then down at his cock. She hadn’t really given him much attention, apparently, and was too focused on her own pleasure because the man was just so goddamn _good_ with his hands. But slowly, she began to stroke him, coaxing a small noise from his throat. 

And when she began to move her hands faster, Arthur reached up and grabbed her hair again, pulling her in and crashing their mouths together in a rough kiss. His tongue forced its way between her lips and even as he bit her lower one when he pulled away, she kept going, stroking him up and down, faster and faster, twisting her wrist around the head, squeezing just enough to make it hurt because she knew he enjoyed the pain. Her upper arms shifted a bit, so she pushed her breasts together more, showing a lot more cleavage and allowing them to jiggle with each pump of his cock she made.

And then came the greatest idea – because Nora was _known_ for great ideas – she wanted to try something new. Or, rather, try something out – more so for curiosity’s sake.

The vaultie dropped to her knees, her eyes staring up at him as she kept her hands going, ready to give him the request he’d wanted last night of coming on her face.

“Mm, _fuck,_ ” he moaned when he realized what she was doing. He was starting to get close, she could tell, even when he didn’t announce it. Her mouth went to his balls, sucking one between her lips for just a moment before letting it go; and when she pulled back, she allowed a mischievous grin to cross her face.

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed at the grin, mismatching the expression on the rest of his face – half-lidded eyes, slightly parted lips, flushed cheeks – because he _knew_ she was up to something. And then—

“Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me, daddy.”

Immediately, his eyes rolled up as he closed them and his back arched when he came, spurting hot cum all over her face while he let out a long, low moan. She closed her eyes tightly and let him cum on her, though her hands had stopped stroking – then again, that didn’t necessarily matter because his hips were still moving on their own, making her hands stroke him regardless. 

But the realization that calling him ‘daddy’ had made him cum almost immediately set in and her jaw just _dropped_. She opened her eyes to look up at him, but his head was tipped back against the wall as he was trying to catch his breath. 

She fucking _lost it._

Nora’s laughter filled the bathroom, echoing off the walls around them; but Arthur refused to lower his head, just keeping it back against the wall as his chest heaved with each breath he took. 

“Oh, my god, Arthur,” she wheezed, one hand going to his thigh and the other to her chest. “I didn’t think that would work, holy shit. I didn’t know you liked being called ‘daddy.’”

His hands had dropped out of her hair before he came, but suddenly one went back up, grabbing her hair and forcing her head to tip back again. She gasped, staring up at him even though he refused to look her in the eyes; instead, he watched what he was doing as his free hand raised to her face, wiping off one of the streaks of cum he’d gifted her. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” he ordered. She obeyed, and he wiped the cum on his fingers onto her tongue. “Leave it out,” he said as he wiped off the rest, moving it all to the pink muscle. When he was sure he got it all, he finally met her eyes. “Now swallow it.” After she did, she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out to show she’d swallowed it all, and he leaned down to kiss her gently, but only for a second. “That’s my girl,” he crooned.

The new way he was praising her made her shiver again and she’d all but forgotten about making him cum by calling him ‘daddy.’

Arthur stood and helped her do the same, then grabbed a washcloth and soap to lather the cloth up and softly trail it over her skin to help wash away the evidence of what they’d done last night on the beach. He was especially gentle around her ass since it was still sore, but once he ensured she was clean, he helped her rinse off, placing kisses along her shoulder as he did. Of course, he then washed himself before getting ready to step out of the shower – it was already late morning and he needed to start his day.

But before he could actually leave, Nora wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her head tipping back to look up and meet his eyes. “I have something to talk to you about before you go.”

══════════════════

Arthur’s arms instinctively wrapped around her waist in return. “Make it quick, pet, I need to get dressed.”

Her lips found his throat for a few kisses and he immediately knew what she was doing – trying to soften him up for what she was about to say. “I saw Ingram earlier and she said she couldn’t decode the Courser chip, but I have an idea on who can help me find someone who _can_ decode it.”

His head tipped up a bit as she placed a few more kisses to his throat and his eyes shut; but he listened. Her intention of softening him up was still working, however. “Go on.”

She dragged her tongue along a spot before placing one more kiss. “And I want you to come with me.”

Arthur pulled back at that, his eyes looking down at her while he furrowed his brows. “You want me to travel the Commonwealth with you?”

“Yes.”

“You know I can’t do that. I have a ship to run and—”

“Kells is your second, he can easily run the ship. And we’ll bring Danse with us for extra protection and because there’s already a comms unit in his power armor that we can use just in case. Plus, signal grenades. It won’t be for long, I promise.”

“Nora…” he sighed.

“A wise but pervy old man once told me a leader had to go out into the field in order to not lose sight of the objective and to remember what it was like being a regular soldier.”

“Mm. Who told you that?”

“Someone you will end up meeting and absolutely hate. But don’t worry, he’s still wise.”

He scratched at his beard as he tipped his head back a bit, thinking on it. Nora took that opportunity to place more kisses against his throat, which were probably helping to persuade his decision, but still. If he left for a while, things would run smoothly; Kells was more than qualified to handle everything aboard the Prydwen. And with Danse’s skills and armor, they could survive better and keep in contact with the ship. Plus, getting back in the field would actually be beneficial…

“Very well.”

Nora beamed, a wide grin spreading across her face as her eyes lit up. She leaned up on her tiptoes and pushed her mouth against his, bringing him into a quick kiss.

“I’ll call a meeting within the hour to let the others know.”

“And I promise I won’t make fun of you for—”

══════════════════

“Knight Parker,” Arthur called, and Nora turned her eyes to him. Something glinted in those sky blues, however, and it only made her narrow her own. He was about to do something she didn’t like, wasn’t he? “Please, have a seat.”

Ah, fuck.

Nora pursed her lips, but when she didn’t move, the officer’s in the room turned to look at her. She glanced around for a moment before turning her eyes back to Arthur – who was holding a completely straight face, impressively enough, as well as waiting expectantly. She forced a smile to cross her lips as she slowly moved over to the sole empty chair at the table in the Elder’s room and lowered herself into it, trying not to visibly wince when her ass touched the surface. Fuck, the skin was still tender. And she was _pretty sure_ she didn’t fully hide the fact sitting down sucked.

But he went back to business as usual. Prick.

“I have something I’d like to announce,” Arthur said. Kells’ eyes grew wide and he looked over to Nora with a glare, and she about fucking _died_ from what she knew the lancer-captain was assuming. Oh, god, no. No, sir.

Wait, not sir.

Fuck.

“Since Ingram is unable to decode the Courser chip,” the Elder continued, “Knight Parker and Paladin Danse will work on finding another means to do so. And I will be accompanying them.”

The reactions were as she expected – Ingram was grinning; Teagan rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, probably calling Nora a whore or something; Quinlan was shaking his head; Kells and Cade were arguing with Maxson; and Danse was staring at Nora with wide, confused eyes. But the moment the Elder held his hand up, everyone grew quiet.

“My decision is final. I will be accompanying them to Diamond City. The comms unit we installed in Paladin Danse’s power armor will be used as a means to keep in contact with the Prydwen in case of an emergency, as well as for daily updates. But we must find a way to decode the chip.”

“If I may, Elder,” Kells began, “Why are _you_ going?”

“Because there are times when I should go into the field in order not to lose sight of the objective and remember what it’s like to be a regular soldier.” Even though he didn’t look at her when he spoke, she couldn’t help but smirk.

If only he knew he was quoting a ghoul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arthur has discovered he has a daddy kink and nora thinks it's hilarious.
> 
> hope y'all are ready for arthur to be in the field again.


	39. Jewel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper gasped as soon as her eyes landed on Arthur and Danse. “Blue… should I ask how or why you have _them_ following you around?” The two men glanced at each other and Nora blinked out of surprise.
> 
> “Wait, you know who they are?”
> 
> “Uh, yeah! It’s literally my _job_ to know this stuff. The tall, gorgeous paladin who was trapped in the police station? The hunky Elder who’s not actually an elder? Oh, yeah, Blue. I know who they are.”

The vertibird dropped Arthur, Danse, and Nora off just outside Sanctuary Hills despite how the vault dweller had originally said they were going to head straight to Diamond City. However, when she claimed she had something ‘very important’ to grab before they went to the great green jewel, Arthur allowed it, assuming the item must have been pertinent to their mission else she wouldn’t have needed it.

But he should have known better. This was Nora, after all.

She made the two men wait outside as she went into the broken down house she called her home, only to come out a few minutes later wearing her vault suit rather than her Brotherhood attire. Arthur felt his blood boil. She was adjusting her chest piece when she must have felt the glare from both soldiers burning through her armor and into her skin since she risked a glance up at them before pursing her lips and finally giving them the attention they were demanding.

“Is there something I can help you boys with?” she asked.

“You made us come all the way here so you could change clothes,” Arthur said. It wasn’t a question.

The vaultie thought on it for a moment, as if she were trying to determine the easiest way to tell him that she had, in fact, wasted precious time and resources just to change her clothes; but her answer was not what he expected. “Sort of. You’ll get different clothes, too. Sturges should have something that can fit you both.” She looked each man up and down and narrowed her eyes at Arthur’s body. “Hopefully.”

Neither of them were pleased. “Why?” Danse asked.

“Because we don’t want to seem associated with the Brotherhood.”

At the same time, both the elder and paladin dropped their jaws just slightly before looking at one another. Nora was actually disrespecting the organization both men had dedicated their lives to – _especially_ the man whose cum she’d had all over her face and in her mouth only mere hours ago. But before either of them could say a word, she continued.

“People don’t really like the Brotherhood and they’ll be sure to tell you that if they know you’re a part of it. Besides, the person who we’re going to speak to in Diamond City—” Her eyes looked to Danse for a moment, and the paladin must have known who she was speaking of “—Might be less inclined to point us in the right direction if they know the Elder is there. And I don’t know where we’ll get sent after that, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Nora looked between the two of them for a moment as they were silent, allowing the information to sink in. “Alright, so, I’ll go see Sturges about some clothes.”

“Please don’t give me overalls,” Danse groaned.

“I am _definitely_ giving you overalls, paladin.”

══════════════════

Arthur could hear her snickering behind him, and it was making his blood boil like before. He’d tried to ignore it but the longer she walked behind him the more she snickered and made obscene comments and noises that were just making the Elder lose patience. Then again, he’d lost that patience long ago when she gave him a pair of tight-fitting jeans to change into that he’d consistently had to adjust around his groin and ass.

“Too tight?” she asked from behind, and he could _hear_ the grin in her voice.

“You did this on purpose,” he growled, adjusting them yet again as they were extremely uncomfortable.

“It’s not my fault you have a big ass, Arthur.” He huffed and rolled his shoulders a bit. “Is it too tight in the front, as well?”

“What do you think?” he growled, shooting a glare at her over his shoulder and spotting the wide grin on her face that, somehow, became even wider.

“I think I have an excellent view, _sir._ ” Arthur spun around to glare at her then, but as soon as he did, her eyes dropped to his groin and her brows raised. “Wow, yeah, it really is tight in the front,” she agreed.

“Walk in front of me,” he ordered. Nora’s eyes snapped back up to his and she grinned even wider before quickly passing him up, trying to avoid a swat to the ass he never made. Danse was a good distance ahead of them, scouting, but probably also trying to avoid whatever conversation they were having. Arthur wished he was avoiding it, too.

“Just think of it as payback for all the times _you_ looked at _my_ ass.”

“You just wait until we get back to the Prydwen, pet.”

“What are you gonna do? Spank me again?” she teased.

He was directly behind her then, an arm wrapping around her so he could grab her throat and pull her back against him. “You seem to have grown used to my hand since you keep being a bad girl,” he growled into her ear. “Perhaps I should start using my belt. What do you think?”

Nora’s eyes grew wide at that and she ducked her head. “Sorry, sir.”

══════════════════

“Up ahead is Lexington. I’ve been avoiding that place,” Nora admitted. But when no one bothered to ask her why, she threw her hands up in the air. “Really? No one cares to know just _why_ I’ve been avoiding it?”

Danse caved. “Why have you been avoiding it, Knight?”

She shot him a pointed look when he used her title. “Because the last time I tried to go through there, it was infested with feral ghouls and I almost lost Codsworth.” Her revelation should have changed their minds on going through the ruined city but that seemed to not be the case; she stopped walking and the two men turned to look at her. “We should really just avoid it, you know. Go around. It’s infested.”

“We need to be in Diamond City before sundown. We _would_ have been there if you hadn’t decided to take us on a trip to your house just to make us change clothes. So, we go through,” Arthur said.

Nora worried her lower lip for a moment as they turned to continue walking, but then she caught up to them again, being sure to walk between the two soldiers who made her look tiny. “Danse,” she said, looking to her right and up to the tallest soldier.

“Yes, Knight?” he responded.

Nora crinkled her nose at the title again. “Wanna make a bet?”

“That depends on the bet.”

“I bet I can get more foot shots than you while we’re in Lexington.”

The paladin looked extremely confused. “… Foot shots?”

“Yep. Shots to the foot. Amputating the foot counts but amputating the leg does not.”

“Hmm.” Danse seemed to think on it as they approached the border of the ruined city. “Alright, soldier. You’re on. What are we betting on?”

A grin crossed her face again – and both men knew that meant she was up to something. “Whoever wins gets to wear Arthur’s coat for a day.”

The Elder bristled from her left. “Absolutely not. I’m not even participating in this bet.”

“Oh, but you could be. And then I could be wearing your coat,” she replied. “Just imagine how cute I’d look in it.”

Both men groaned as she only grinned wider.

They moved into Lexington, but as soon as they came upon a familiar building – one with two window mannequins – her heart started to pound. “I think… I think this is where the ghouls were,” she whispered. And, as if on cue, snarls were heard as ferals began to fall from the enclosed bridge above and the few that were already on the ground – likely the ones that she and Codsworth had fled from before – stood to join in on the fight.

Ghoul after ghoul after ghoul charged them, trying to make them into dinner, but with two laser weapons and a plasma weapon, the three soldiers made easy work of the beasts. By the time they were done, they’d killed somewhere upwards of twenty ghouls and most of them were either missing a leg, missing a foot, or their foot was completely turned into ash or green goo.

“I’ll go count!” Nora offered excitedly.

“Absolutely not,” Arthur growled. “Out of the three of us, you would be the one most likely to lie.”

Her jaw dropped and she put her hand to her chest. “I am _offended_ by this accusation, Arthur Maxson. How could you think me capable of such a thing?”

“To be fair,” Danse spoke up; Nora immediately shot a glare at him, “You lied about logging during our time in the Glowing Sea. We missed three logs specifically because you lied.”

Nora pursed her lips. “Fine. Danse counts, then.”

The paladin grumbled but went around to count what type of shots hit however many ghouls. It was fairly easy to tell with most since they all used different weapons; Danse used a laser rifle, Arthur a Gatling laser, and Nora a plasma rifle. If anything, the two men would get their own hits mixed up while Nora would have clear ones.

The vaultie reached into her bag and grabbed a can of purified water, popping it open and taking a sip. Arthur watched her intently, likely waiting for her to finish so he could have the rest, but she just took long, slow sips as she stared right back. And when the patience started wearing from his face, she pulled the can away and held it out for him; he took it and began to drink the rest.

Nora, however, took a glance to see where her paladin was before sidling up to Arthur’s side; he tried to ignore her despite his eyes glaring at her as he drank down the water, but Nora wasn’t about to let that happen. In one swift movement, she pressed the front of her body against his free arm, ensuring his hand was close to her core while she reached forward and firmly grabbed his soft cock through those tight-fitting pants and, at the same time, whispered to him, “Did I do good, daddy?” 

The water he’d been drinking was instead spewed out as he choked on it; the Elder leaned over to cough, putting his hands on his knees just after Nora took the can from him. She had a wide grin on her face while she patted his back as he coughed, and she looked over to see Danse approaching with a confused look on his face.

“You alright, Arthur?”

Arthur’s face was a deep red from the sudden choking and coughing, though she knew he wasn’t bent over solely because of the water in his lungs anymore – he was definitely trying to hide the erection those jeans would do nothing to conceal if he stood up. But he nodded to Danse and Nora kept patting and stroking his back.

“Yeah, big boy just choked on a bit of water. He’ll be alright, though. So, who won?”

“Ah… you did, actually.”

Nora grinned wide and Arthur just groaned from his bent over position. “I never agreed to the bet,” he announced.

“Oh, yeah? Danse, tell me, was Arthur shooting for the feet?” The paladin glanced between the two of them as he had an internal conflict written all over his face. He wanted to side with Nora because he knew she was right, but he was hesitant because Arthur was his superior. But when he didn’t answer, Nora just smacked Arthurs back. “See? Coat’s mine.”

“For a day.”

“Fine. Coat’s mine for a day.”

══════════════════

They arrived at Diamond City just after sundown and Nora led the two men inside. The lights that strung around from building to building lit up the spaces and she could only grin at the sight; despite the world being a post-apocalyptic shithole, places like Diamond City gave her hope that civilization could actually rebuild and become whole again. 

They followed her down the steps and into the marketplace where she first came across Nat. The little girl beamed at the sight of Nora and even called back for Piper to come out – but when her eyes landed on Danse, they grew wide and her mouth opened just slightly; it looked like the kid just fell in love for the first time.

“H-hey mister. Want a free copy of _Publick Occurrences_?” she asked.

Danse looked around for a moment before settling his eyes back on the young girl. “Me?”

“Yeah, you!”

“Uh… sure?” She handed him one of the newspapers and grinned up at him when he took it. “Thanks.”

“Anything for a friend of Blue.”

The door to the building behind Nat opened and out came the reporter, her eyes wide and a grin spread across her face. “Blue! It’s been so long! You haven’t come to see me in _forever_!”

Nora hugged her friend before they collided. “I know, Piper. I’m sorry. I’ve just been really bu—”

But Piper gasped as soon as her eyes landed on Arthur and Danse. “Blue… should I ask how or why you have _them_ following you around?” The two men glanced at each other and Nora blinked out of surprise.

“Wait, you know who they are?”

“Uh, yeah! It’s literally my _job_ to know this stuff. The tall, gorgeous paladin who was trapped in the police station? The hunky Elder who’s not actually an elder? Oh, yeah, Blue. I know who they are.”

Nora’s eyebrows raised but it was combined with a surprised smile as she looked over to Arthur and Danse. “Well, alright,” she said before turning her attention back to Piper. “I need you to _not_ talk to anyone about them being here, though, okay? Please, Piper.”

“Blue! I am _offended_. You act like I can’t control myself.”

“You can’t. I’ve seen it.”

“… Okay, but I think you should be more worried about Nat than me,” Piper said as she motioned over to her little sister. Nora looked in that direction and saw how the young girl was just _staring_ up at Danse from the box she stood on with wide eyes and a grin on her face. The paladin was completely oblivious to it.

“Well, maybe this ‘hiding in plain sight’ thing isn’t working out according to plan,” the vault dweller admitted.

“Not when you have two of the Commonwealth’s hunkiest men following you.”

“Please stop saying ‘hunky,’ it’s really weird.”

══════════════════

“Why do I have to stay out here?”

“Because, uh…” Nora glanced up to Danse as if asking for a lie she could tell Arthur about why he wasn’t allowed to go inside Nick’s place, but he just stared at her; he wouldn’t play the game of lying to the Elder, and she knew that. He didn’t like Nick because Nick was a synth, though he tolerated the detective – but Arthur would either react the same way Danse had or even worse. “… Uh, because…”

“Nora,” Arthur growled in warning.

“Because he’s—”

“A synth?” The familiar voice of the synth detective rang out from behind them on the street and all three turned around to face him. Every ounce of worry she’d once had disappeared as she gave Nick a wide grin and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Arthur, however, was just staring in disgust while Danse was keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Hey, doll. You lookin’ for me?” Nick asked as he wrapped one arm around her waist to return the hug while yellow eyes landed on the Elder. 

“Yes. But, uh, should we go inside first?” She let go of Nick and glanced back to Arthur, whose scowl couldn’t have made him look any more pissed off and disgusted if he tried. But he was quiet, which meant he was surveying the situation and likely forming a plan – and that made her nervous.

“Sure thing,” the synth answered before releasing her and stepping toward the small alleyway that led to his door. Arthur still stood in the way of it, however, his bulky body mostly blocking it since he’d done so to try to convince Nora to let him go inside with her. Nick stopped about a foot away and the two just stared at one another, though the detective had a small smile on his face that contrasted with the scowl on Arthur’s. “Pardon me, Elder Maxson.” Arthur seemed taken aback enough to step aside so Nick could pass, and once the synth was at the familiar red door, his hand on the knob, he turned to look at Nora. “Just you, doll; not your boys. Don’t want them scarin’ Ellie.” The knob was turned, and the door was opened. “Oh, by the way – it’s nice to see you again, paladin.” Nick tipped his hat before stepping inside, not waiting for Nora since he seemed to know she wouldn’t be in right away.

Arthur’s eyes were on her now – staring her down, almost daring her to try to walk past him without speaking to him first. But even after Nick disappeared inside, she didn’t look to the Elder; instead, she dropped her gaze to the ground – not out of submission but so she could think of how to handle the situation depending on how it went. Arthur was pissed, that was clear; she probably should have told him Nick was a synth _before_ they left the Prydwen, or at least had him wait in Home Plate while she went to speak with the detective. Then again, he likely wouldn’t have let her go in either scenario.

“Give us a moment, paladin.”

Nora’s eyes flicked up to Danse as he obeyed Arthur’s command and turned to carry himself toward the marketplace; and only once he was a good distance away did her eyes finally turn to the Elder. He was still staring her down, waiting, but she could see the fire behind his eyes that was filled with rage.

“Arthur—” she began, but apparently the only thing he was waiting for was for her to start speaking so he could finish.

“I knew you were traveling with non-humans, but I didn’t think you were stupid enough to bring me to one of them.”

Nora’s jaw dropped and her eyebrows furrowed. Did he… really just say that? “Arthur, listen—”

“How did you expect this go to, Nora?” He started moving toward her in that slow, intimidating walk he always did, and it made her body tense up. Arthur was never able to intimidate her with his height – hell, standing at five-feet two-inches tall meant a lot of people were taller than her, so Arthur looming over her never had the effect he thought it would – but his mere _authority_ was what got her in times like this. There was a reason she hated authority figures in the past – and Arthur was a prime example.

But that didn’t explain why she was head over heels for him, now did it?

Once he got close enough, Nora began backing up; but he continued speaking. “Did you expect me to be completely fine with a _synth_? Did you think I would just become friends with it?” The vaultie’s back hit the wall behind her and Arthur planted his palms on the metal behind her on either side of her head as he leaned down to meet her face-to-face. “Please, Nora. Enlighten me.”

Nora tipped her chin up even as his voice dropped into a more threatening tone. Despite her back being against a wall with his body caging her in, she wasn’t about to let him trap her. “We’re not on the Prydwen anymore, Arthur. This is _my_ turf and I suggest you don’t back me into a fucking corner. Nick was the first _person_ to help me get on the right track to finding my son and he’ll help me do the same now because we’re friends. This chip will get us into the Institute where Shaun is, so you can either help me find my son or get the fuck out of my way.”

Sky blue eyes studied her face for a long moment and the silence between them became extremely uncomfortable; but she didn’t look away. Instead, she stared him down just as he was doing the same to her, but when his hand roughly grabbed her jaw, one of hers grabbed his wrist and the other the collar of his shirt as she glared up at him. Arthur leaned in closely then and she felt her breath hitch in her throat in a sort of panic, but when he pressed his lips to her, her body relaxed. The kiss only lasted a moment before he pulled away, however, and just rested their foreheads together as their eyes were locked once again.

She waited for him to speak as he still held her jaw, his other arm having shifted so his forearm was pressed against the wall now instead of his hand; and as he searched her eyes again, she wondered if he ever found what he was looking for all the other times he did it.

“Hurry it up,” he said quietly before releasing her. “I’m going to buy some new clothes. Danse will be just outside while you’re in there.”

══════════════════

“Hey, doll,” Nick greeted her with a smile as she stepped into the room. Those yellow eyes of his looked her up and down, likely gauging her wellbeing, before his eyes lingered on the bruises on her throat. “Everything alright with you?”

Nora gave him a small smile as she sat across the desk. “Other than missing out on the first ten years of my son’s life and still not having him with me?” Nick gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, mostly.”

“Those Brotherhood boys treatin’ you well?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“I’m sure Danse will take care of you, I’ve seen and heard about that. But I’m not so sure about Maxson. Never met him before, but I’ve heard a lot of stories, sweetheart, and they aren’t good. You sure you want to be palling around with him?” Nora thought about it for a moment, but when she didn’t answer straight away, Nick continued. “And if I’m being honest, doll, those bruises on your neck are a bit concerning.”

Royal blue eyes grew a little wide and she tipped her head down as her face flushed. Nick always sounded just like a father, which might have been why she saw him as a father figure; and even now, as he was questioning where she received the numerous bruises that decorated her neck and throat – let alone the ones he _couldn’t_ see beneath her suit – he sounded like a concerned parent.

Thank whatever god was out there – Atom? – for Ellie, though.

The brunette walked into the room from the back, her eyes landing on Nora and a wide grin spreading across her face. “Nora!” she exclaimed, and the vault dweller returned the grin before standing up to embrace the secretary in a hug. “It’s been so long! I haven’t seen you since you went to Goodneighbor. How are you—oh! Looks like someone’s been having fun!”

Scratch that. Don’t thank whatever god for Ellie.

Nora’s face went red again and Nick raised his non-existent eyebrows. 

“Uh-huh. So those bruises are consensual, then?” he asked, bringing the cigarette he’d been holding between his fingers to his lips to take a drag. The smoke exited through the opening on the side of his face and neck before he blew the rest out through his mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered. If she were just speaking to Ellie, she might not have been so shy – but this was _Nick_.

“Well, well, well. Who’s the lucky lover?” Ellie asked with a grin.

“Ellie,” Nora said sharply, giving the other woman a look that clearly said _’stop it.’_ “We can have this talk some other time, okay? Right now, I’m here on business.”

“Alright, doll. What’s brought you back to my neck of the woods?” the detective asked.

“I have a courser chip,” she began, and Ellie’s eyes grew wide while she leaned on Nick’s desk. “The Brotherhood tried to decode it, but they didn’t have the right technology, so I need to find someone who does. I figured you might be able to help point me in the right direction.”

“The Brotherhood of Steel, known hoarders of technology, don’t have the right technology? Huh. Well, isn’t that just ironic,” the synth said before taking another drag of his cigarette. “Well, the only other people I know of who might be able to do anything with Institute technology are the Railroad.”

“Great,” Nora said, perking up a bit. “So, how do I find them?”

“Not a clue.”

“... Wait, really?”

“Well, Dr. Amari over in Goodneighbor might know something, but you’ll spook her with your boys following you around like lost puppy dogs, so you may need to kennel them when you approach her.”

Nora nodded a little. “Okay. I’ll go there and try to talk to her. Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah. Don’t go doing anything stupid. I know you’ve been palling around with Danse and he’s probably the most pleasant Brotherhood soldier I’ve ever dealt with, if that tells you anything. But bringing the Elder along is a whole other thing. You make sure you’re not turning your back on them or they’ll take advantage of that.”

She let out a soft sigh but nodded her head again. “Alright. Thanks, Nick.”

══════════════════

“I much prefer the other pair.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do.”

“These ones are nowhere near as flattering of your ass, Arthur.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You two do realize I’m standing right here?” Danse interjected.

“Sorry, Danse. You have a nice ass, too,” Nora said. Both men glared at her and she only gave them a toothy grin before finally pushing the door to Home Plate open. A quick swipe at the wall beside the door turned the lights on and Nora walked inside, tossing her bag and weapon to the ground. “Ah, home sweet home. Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen.”

Arthur stepped inside, first noticing the five magazine racks that lined the walls across from the door; from what he could tell, they were filled with all sorts of magazines from Astoundingly Awesome Tales to Wasteland Survival Guides, and there were still some empty spaces at the end of the last rack for more. Across from the magazine racks and directly to the right of the door was a shelf that had some Vault-Tec bobbleheads on it, though there were also empty spaces there as if she hadn’t collected them all yet. There were even some weapons racks that held specialized weapons on display she’d found throughout her travels – perhaps he’d ask her the stories one day.

A workbench sat in an area that led to another room, and in that room was a couch with a matching chair, a coffee table, and a rug that sat beneath all of it. In the far-off corner were different types of stations like a chemistry station, armor and weapons workstation, and cooking stove. The second floor had a dresser and cabinet with clothes and other items while the third floor, where a ladder was at that led to the roof, had a double bed. 

“I know it’s not much,” Nora said as she was walking up the stairs, “Buuuuut it’s home.” When she was on the second floor, she stopped before walking up to the third. “Oh, yeah, by the way. I only have one bed, so you’ll have to fight over who gets to sleep with me in it and who gets the couch.” She started walking up to the third floor, then, waving her hand at the two men who were watching her from the first. “Good luck, Danse!” she called.

Arthur narrowed his eyes but neither of them bothered to look at one another – because the answer was obvious. He wasn’t about to let anyone else sleep in her bed with her.

══════════════════

“Arthur, the bed is too loud,” Nora whispered.

“It’ll be fine. Just scoot over here,” the Elder whispered back.

“It’s going to wake up Danse,” the vaultie protested. Every movement either of them made on the bed caused an extremely loud and annoying creak to come from the old springs and bounce off the walls in an echo. Danse would have been woken up from it if he’d actually fallen asleep in the first place – but they’d never even given him the chance.

“No, it won’t. It’ll be fine,” Arthur growled in a whisper, “I’m fucking you, end of story. You’re lucky I don’t smack your ass again after all the shit you pulled today.”

They really had no shame, did they?

“Aw, what’s wrong? You don’t like—ow! That fucking hurt!”

“Keep talking and it’ll hurt worse. Now stick your ass out more, I can’t get it in at this angle.”

The paladin tried plugging his ears, but the creaking of the bed was so damn loud it didn’t even matter; and he knew Nora wasn’t quiet during sex, so she’d probably start screaming eventually, anyway. Maybe he should have just rented a room at the Dugout.

“Ugh. I got you off this morning. Your libido is fucking ridiculous— _oh!_ ” Nora’s voice went up in pitch and she gasped. Everything went quiet for a minute, and Danse was starting to think maybe they’d fallen asleep or something – until the bed started consistently creaking.

And it was creaking _loudly._

“Arthur, stop.”

“It’s fine, Nora,” the Elder growled.

“Damnit, I said stop. It’s too loud.”

The creaking stopped and Danse almost shouted a _’thank you’_ up to her before he caught himself.

“He can’t hear us,” Arthur whispered, “Do you want me to ask?”

“Oh, yeah, you go ahead and ask him if he can hear you trying to have sex with me right above where he’s sleeping. Go on. I’ll wait.”

“Fine,” Arthur whispered, accepting the challenge. “Danse, can you hear me?” The sentence was still whispered just as much as the rest of their words.

He couldn’t stop himself.

“Yes,” he answered.

There was a long silence until a soft, exasperated _’fuck’_ came from Nora.

He should have rented a room at the Dugout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter jumped around a lot, so I hope it was alright!


	40. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wanna make a bet?”
> 
> “You’ve already won the privilege of wearing my coat for a day; what more could you want from me?”
> 
> “Other than your soul, a lock of hair, a skin follicle, and an ounce of semen? Nothing _too_ drastic.” The list made him roll his eyes – she came up with the most ridiculous things; of course, he hoped it was a joke, considering she had access to almost everything she listed other than his soul. For now, at least. “So, wanna make a bet, or no?” she asked again.

The sun peeked through the holes and cracks in the metal walls of Home Plate, disturbing the darkness that had engulfed the inside of Nora’s Diamond City residence. The only sounds that dared break the silence come morning were the bustling civilians outside in the marketplace, the occasional shift in the bed from the third floor or the couch from the first, and the rhythmic breathing patterns of sleeping soldiers under the same roof.

Well, until now, that is.

“Arthur, what are you doing?” whispered the sleepy vault dweller to the man who’d shared her bed throughout the night.

“Finishing what we started last night,” the Elder whispered in return.

“You know we can’t. The bed is too loud.”

“He’s still sleeping. We’ll be quiet.”

“He’s a lighter sleeper than you!” she protested.

“Then I suggest you stop talking and keep quiet, pet,” Arthur growled. There was a slight creak in the bed before Nora gasped, though the Elder must have realized the noise was fairly loud as he shushed her immediately after.

“Shh. If you can’t keep quiet with my cock buried in your cunt then it’ll get shoved down your throat and you won’t be getting off. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

The bed began creaking again though it wasn’t nearly as loud as it was last night, likely from the springs having grown used to caring for the weight of two people utilizing them rather than one. Still, it was loud _enough_ that they would have woken Danse – if he’d even been asleep; he’d woken up not long before they did but decided to think through recent events rather than try to wake them to start the day.

That was clearly a mistake.

Now, he couldn’t ignore the damn creaking no matter what he did. 

“I’m awake!” he shouted exasperatedly as he threw his arms up in the air like they could see the action.

The creaking stopped and no one even breathed for what felt like ages until there was a soft _’damnit, Arthur!’_ from Nora.

══════════════════

“Arthur.”

“Nora.”

“Wanna make a bet?”

“You’ve already won the privilege of wearing my coat for a day; what more could you want from me?”

“Other than your soul, a lock of hair, a skin follicle, and an ounce of semen? Nothing _too_ drastic.” The list made him roll his eyes – she came up with the most ridiculous things; of course, he hoped it was a joke, considering she had access to almost everything she listed other than his soul. For now, at least. “So, wanna make a bet, or no?” she asked again.

“As Danse said before, it depends on the bet.”

“A race,” Nora said simply. Both Arthur and Danse turned to look at her with confused expressions. Was she actually serious?

“A race?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“On foot?”

“That is correct,” she confirmed.

The two men looked at one another then back to Nora, clearly unsure what was happening. Why would she ever want to race him? Arthur stood at about six-feet two-inches tall, which was an _entire foot_ taller than Nora; and she wasn’t exactly the most agile person in the wasteland. Hell, she could be described as _clumsy_ and it would be entirely accurate.

But still – he was curious about what she was up to; and he wanted to even the score of having lost a bet to her once already.

“What happens when you lose?” he asked.

The corners of Nora’s mouth twitched a bit though he didn’t catch it, his eyes focused ahead of them as they passed by Hubris Comics. “Hmm. How about…” Her fingertip tapped the tip of her nose for a second before she let her arm drop to her side while she stepped over some debris. “I’ll wear Brotherhood power armor on every mission for the next week.”

That seemed much too easy – she _hated_ wearing power armor and he’d never expected her to use that as a bargaining chip, but she’d offered it up almost immediately, which meant she was confident in her chances of winning a footrace against him. He felt like he should be worried. “And what if, by chance, I lose?” he asked.

“You shave your beard.” Immediately, his head snapped to the side and he looked to her, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t worry, you can grow it right back out afterward,” she reassured him – but it wasn’t exactly reassuring.

Arthur grew his beard out for two main reasons – to make himself look older and to help cover and distract from the countless scars on his face; needless to say, having to shave was not something he was looking forward to even if his beard did grow fairly quickly. Then again, there was no way he’d lose in a footrace against her – but she _had_ to know that, didn’t she?

“Where are we racing?” he asked.

“Around Swan’s Pond. Mac and I killed the big ass super mutant that lived there a while ago so the area should still be fairly safe. We’ll be coming up on it soon, actually.” Nora bumped her shoulder against his arm though he didn’t even budge; instead, she just rubbed where her body had collided with his.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice was full of skepticism and she could probably hear it.

“Positive. There’s no way I’ll lose the bet.” The mischievous grin was on her face again, but he couldn’t figure out why. It was _unnerving_ – she was up to something.

Still, there was no way she’d win against him in a footrace. “Alright, I accept,” he said.

══════════════════

They’d secured the perimeter around Swan’s Pond, making sure no other enemies were nearby before they set their things down near a tour bot that was still in its pod. Nora was off speaking to Danse for a moment while Arthur was growing impatient, standing at the spot she’d instructed him to be at by saying that was where the race would begin. He was ready to do this and rub it in her face; she may have won the privilege of wearing his coat for a day, but he’d win making her wear her power armor for an entire _week_ – and he’d enjoy it, too.

But when he saw Danse slowly approach and stand beside him in the spot he knew the vault dweller should have been standing instead, he knew something was wrong. Blue eyes stared the paladin down for a long moment before Danse finally met Arthur’s gaze.

“Sorry, Arthur.”

_Damnit, Nora._

“Alright, boys! Are you ready to race?” The vaultie stepped in front of them a few feet ahead, her hands on her hips and that same mischievous grin pasted across her lips as her eyes looked between the two of them.

“What’s going on, Nora?” the Elder asked, his tone full of irritation. He must have underestimated her.

“The race! What else?” she answered.

“You and I were supposed to race, not Danse and me.”

“No, you and I were _betting_ on a race. I never said I would be the one running; so, I chose Danse as my runner.” Arthur’s eyes narrowed and Nora’s grin grew wider; he could feel his face growing hot and the skin undoubtedly turning red as she sauntered up to him. “Aw, c’mon, Arthur,” she said as her hands splayed on his chest. He knew if he was shirtless, those delicate fingers would be threaded into the expanse of hair on his front like they usually were. “Don’t be mad you got outsmarted.”

“I’m not mad,” he grumbled, knowing his tone betrayed his words, “I just don’t enjoy being _manipulated.”_

“Outsmarted, not manipulated,” she corrected.

Arthur just rolled his eyes. “And what if I choose not to race?” he asked.

“Are you sure you want everyone to know you _chose_ not to race against Paladin Danse specifically because you initially thought you were racing a woman who is a foot shorter than you and who you’ve been known to describe as _’agile as a behemoth’_?” Her fingers were slightly crooked so her nails were gently running against his chest through his shirt as she spoke, and when he didn’t reply right away, her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip as she glanced down to his mouth. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” One hand left his chest and went to his cheek, patting it affectionately before she pulled away completely.

Nora stepped a few feet away then and Arthur shot a glare over to Danse, but the paladin just let a small, apologetic smile cross his lips. “She bribed me with a rare weapon mod I’ve been trying to get for a while.” He gave a slight shrug of the shoulder after Arthur mumbled something along the lines of _’goddamn traitor.’_

“Alright, are you ready? Get set… go!”

Danse was a few inches taller than Arthur – but that small difference in height wasn’t really where it mattered most. Both men were built though Arthur was much bulkier; he was thicker with muscle while Danse was leaner, making the paladin a lot lighter on his feet in comparison. So, while Arthur had plenty of power to put into running due to the muscle he’d built up in his thighs, Danse was just a bit quicker.

══════════════════

It was obvious Arthur wasn’t happy about losing the race, but Nora couldn’t help feeling good about tricking him into the bet and now having two wins against his zero. Both men were worn out after sprinting around Swan’s Pond and she convinced them to take a breather for a few minutes, so they’d sat down in the station entrance to Park Street station. Of course, Danse being who he was, he didn’t sit down and instead decided to scout ahead to see how easy the rest of their path to Goodneighbor would be since it wasn’t far at all.

Arthur, on the other hand, sat on the concrete and leaned back against the station wall while he tried to catch his breath. Nora sat between his legs and her own legs were draped over one of his while her side was pressed against his front, her head on his chest. He held a can of purified water in one hand, his free arm wrapped around her back and his fingers curled against her side to hold her tightly to him. It was intimate, really, but he didn’t seem to mind, and she’d been relishing in every intimate action he’d given her and allowed her to devour.

“We’re almost to Goodneighbor,” she said quietly. He made a grunt in acknowledgement. “Have you ever been there before?” she asked. 

“No.”

“Are you aware of what Goodneighbor is like?”

“You mean do I know they harbor non-humans and reek of chems and liquor? Yes.”

“Oh. Okay, good. That makes this easier,” she whispered before nuzzling her face against his chest. “So, have you enjoyed coming out with me? Or do you absolutely hate it and never want to do it again?”

“Mm.” He made a noise to seem like he was thinking long and hard on it; she just grinned but he turned to kiss her forehead. “Yes, I’ve enjoyed it. Aside from the times you’ve tricked me, of course, but I’ve felt very… I don’t know. Alive? It’s… much different than being stuck on the Prydwen all day. It’s even different compared to when I was a soldier on the ground and not an Elder.” 

Nora’s lips found his throat and she placed soft kisses to the tender skin just beneath his beard line. “It’s because you’re having fun. You’ve told me a little bit about what your childhood was like – you didn’t get to race around ponds or have healthy competitions or openly flirt. But out here? With me? I want to make sure you get that chance. And if that means tricking you into shaving your beard so you look like a twelve-year-old for a little while, then so be it.”

He gave her a playful glare. “So, you don’t like my beard? Is that it?”

“What? No! I love your beard!” Which was true – Nora _loved_ facial hair; but if making him go without it made him embrace his youth for a little bit, then she was fine with making him shave.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like it.” He leaned down and started rubbing his scruffy chin on her neck and throat, placing gentle nips to her skin in the process. “I suggest you apologize to my beard, Nora, or else you’ll regret it.” The vaultie squealed and tried to push his face away but he only held her tighter and pushed the coarse hairs against her skin harder, leaving behind red marks.

“Arthur, quit it! That tickles!”

When he pulled back after a moment, a wide, lopsided grin was spread across his maw and she could only grin back up at him. One of her hands went up to brush her fingers through his beard, easing out the few knots that had tangled since he was rubbing it all over her. But after a second, the Elder leaned down and gently pushed his lips against hers.

Nora wasn’t sure how long they were even kissing before Danse cleared his throat to announce his presence. He wasn’t facing them, but instead had his hands shoved in his pockets as he was looking at their surroundings, seeing if anything around them was moving. Arthur slowly pulled his lips from hers before resting their foreheads together for a moment, a hand cupping her jaw and stroking her cheekbone. 

She wanted to tell him how happy he made her and how she wanted to stay with him forever; how, after she got Shaun back, they’d go with Arthur to the Citadel and she’d marry him if that’s what it took to be in his life. The vault dweller wanted to tell him she’d give him children – not because she had to, but because she _wanted_ to.

But she didn’t tell him any of those things because she wasn’t sure how much of it was true and how much of it was based on a fantasy she didn’t fully understand. Nora barely knew the man whose lap she sat in and yet she was considering throwing everything away for him once she’d found her son. Her husband, Nate, was dead but not yet buried and she was already considering leaving the Commonwealth to remarry despite how she still wore their wedding rings on her left hand’s ring finger – and despite how Arthur had not once asked nor commented on it.

So, instead, she just smiled up at him, knowing one day she’d have to make those decisions; but today, she just devoured the feeling of his chapped lips against her forehead that told her he, too, had many unspoken words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nora wants to bring out Arthur's inner-child because she knows he never got to be an _actual_ child when he was young. She's getting him to enjoy himself with little things like a footrace and competing against Danse - things he was never allowed to do when he was growing up. But this way, you get to see Arthur's childish side a bit more in-depth other than just through the impulsiveness he exhibits sometimes. Plus, fluff.
> 
> Also, I hope it's clear that my writing style changes because it reflects whose point of view I'm writing from and the mood of the situation they're in. I try to be a bit more poetic with Arthur's point of view by using chess metaphors and whatnot; with Danse's, I try to be a bit more straightforward; and then with Nora's, I try to be blunt and sometimes panicky, hence all the cuss words. I was hoping I made that obvious but I wasn't really sure, so why not wait until chapter fucking forty to clear it up.
> 
> Also also, thank you so so so much to Lady_Trevelyan84 for helping me flesh out a lot of this stuff and providing me with really good ideas to put in my fic, especially the latest chapters! This piece could not have turned out this well so far without your help!


	41. Ghoul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It must have only just now dawned on Arthur what was happening, however, because his eyebrows furrowed and he shot a glare at Nora, then scowled at the robot. “Is this _thing_ actually hitting on me?” he snarled.

It was a major relief to not be greeted by Hancock at the front door of Goodneighbor; as much as she adored the mayor, she knew the first time Arthur met him would need to be a bit more calculated than walking directly into the town and seeing her get a slap on the ass. Then again, she didn’t exactly think her plan of bringing Arthur along through – she was excited to get him out of his giant fucking blimp and didn’t even think they would be sent to Goodneighbor. 

Danse immediately went to Kill or Be Killed – already knowing his way around the small town – likely with the intention of stocking up on some ammo since they’d had to fight a handful of super mutants after they’d finished their race. Nora watched him wander off toward where the assaultron’s shop was before she turned to Arthur, her blue eyes locking onto his as she let a grin spread across her face. He narrowed his eyes at her in response.

“Can I have some caps?” she asked in an innocent tone, “I need some plasma cartridges.”

“No.”

Well, that was not the answer she was expecting. “Why not?”

“Because you have your own caps.”

“Not enough.”

His eyes were scanning their surroundings – the habit of a soldier, undoubtedly – and seemed to linger on some of the ghouls who were enlisted as the Neighborhood Watch. “I doubt that’s true.”

“Please?” she whispered. Arthur’s gaze snapped down to her and her grin spread into a more mischievous one. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me tonight without complaint.” His eyes were flicking back and forth between her own now and she could almost see the cogs in his head turning as he was thinking on it. She put her hands near his chest, fingertips gently touching him through his shirt. “You can fuck me as hard as you want, make me scream…” As she spoke, her fingers were slowly dragging downward. “You can cum all over every inch of my body to claim me.” One hand stopped at his stomach while the other went lower to his groin, fingertips just barely tracing over the spot where he was starting to fill out his jeans from her words alone. “I’ll even call you ‘daddy’ while I beg you to fuck me with your thick cock.”

But he wasn’t reacting — well, other than the slight chub she’d grazed her fingers over, he wasn’t — which must have meant she needed to keep pushing a bit more. Nora leaned up onto her tiptoes, their lips close though she didn’t kiss him — and he didn’t close the gap nor pull away, either. “Whatever you want tonight, daddy, you can have it. Just give me some caps? Please?”

But she caught the slight twitch of his mouth — the barely-visible smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips — which was a reaction she knew all too well. Arthur leaned in then, but his lips bypassed hers and instead went to her ear as he spoke in a low tone. “I think you’ll let me do those things whether I give you caps or not, pet,” he said quietly, “And you’ll be calling me ‘daddy’ regardless, so I’m not worried about that, either.” His hot breath went into the shell of her ear with each word he spoke and it made her shiver; he only pressed his face just a little closer so she could feel the edge of his beard tickling her skin. “Besides, only good girls get allowances, and you are definitely _not_ a good girl. Use your own caps.”

With that, the Elder stepped around her and started walking after Danse toward the vendor. Nora just stood there for a moment, her cheeks tinted pink and lips slightly parted in surprise from the fact she was just bested at her own game. But when she spun on her heels and turned to watch him walk away, she could have _sworn_ he put his hands in his pockets specifically to make his pants tighter against his ass because he knew she’d be staring.

Bastard.

The vaultie quickly trotted after him, though – because she always would, especially if he had that nice of an ass for the rest of his life – and met up with him and Danse inside the Kill or Be Killed shop just as KL-E-0 set her sights on Arthur – and not in the destructive way, either.

“Well, hellloooooo handsome,” the robot drawled. Arthur cocked one eyebrow up and looked to Danse, but the paladin only shrugged as he continued counting out some caps for the ammo he’d just purchased. “Oh, yes, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.” When the Elder returned his gaze back to the assaultron behind the counter, Nora couldn’t help but grin as she came up beside him and looped her arm with his. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mayor Hancock’s little kitten. Are you the one who brought me this tasty snack?”

Nora’s face turned a little red, but her grin only grew wider. She was _not_ about to look at Arthur. “I don’t think he’s into assaultrons, KL-E-0. Sorry.”

“Well, ain’t that a shame. But you never know until you give me a try; and trust me, handsome, I’ll let you try me as many times as you want.”

It must have only just now dawned on Arthur what was happening, however, because his eyebrows furrowed and he shot a glare at Nora, then scowled at the robot. “Is this _thing_ actually hitting on me?” he snarled.

“Hey, now. I’m all woman, baby,” KL-E-0 said, “And I can prove it upstairs any time you want.”

As hilarious as it was to watch him get hit on by an assaultron, Arthur looked like he was ready to explode, and the vaultie had to slot herself between him and the counter KL-E-0 was on the other side of. Nora faced the Elder and gently put her hands on his chest. “Why don’t we go to the Third Rail, huh? Get a couple drinks before you decide to give KL-E-0 a reason to use that fat man she hides behind the counter.” She was gently guiding him backward and he stepped back a few times before finally giving in, but KL-E-0 had one last thing to say. Because of course she did.

“Come back when you’re ready for a real woman, baby.”

Maybe they needed more than a couple drinks.

══════════════════

She got Arthur and Danse down to the bar in the Third Rail and Danse seemed almost relieved to have some alcohol in his hand despite the fact he rarely ever drank. Still, the three sat at a table off in the corner, being left alone despite a few glances going their way; it wasn’t hard to spot soldiers, especially in Goodneighbor – not that _she_ looked like a soldier, but the two men accompanying her just couldn’t hide the vibe they gave off.

But so far, they hadn’t run into Hancock or MacCready, which was unusual but lucky—

“There’s my kitten!”

Ah, fuck.

Nora turned around in her seat to watch as the two men she was _just_ thankful for not seeing yet descended the steps into the subway-turned-bar. The table Danse had chosen to sit at had six chairs, of course, with Danse and Arthur sitting on one side and Nora sitting opposite of the Elder, leaving two empty seats on either side of her and one empty seat to the right of Arthur. This, of course, meant Hancock and MacCready took the liberties of sitting beside her – Mac to her left and John to her right.

She didn’t need to look at Arthur to know how this would play out.

The sniper wrapped his arm over her shoulder affectionately, pulling her into a sort of side hug that she awkwardly returned from the strange position. “Hey, Mac,” she said before gently elbowing his side to get him to let go. 

Hancock snagged her away from MacCready and pulled her against his side, though it wasn’t for just a hug – he kept her there. “A little birdie told me you were avoiding me when you came to town. Now, why would that be the case, kitten? Got anything to do with these fine boys here?”

Nora chanced a brief look up to the Elder, but he wasn’t glaring at Hancock or Mac – no, he was staring at _her_ , and his face was… blank. Unreadable. It was fucking unnerving.

“I was gonna come see you, John, don’t worry. I just got sidetracked.”

“Uh huh. Sure you were. So, you gonna introduce me to your new friend? Or should I just call him soldier boy number two?”

Once again, her eyes lifted to Arthur, but he was still staring at her – though he answered for himself. “Arthur Maxson, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel.” Of course he’d have to boast his fucking title. Great.

“Oh, well, would you look at that. So, this is who you been holdin’ out on me for, huh?” Hancock asked as he leaned in and placed a kiss on top of her head. While she never minded how touchy-feely he was before, tonight it might have looked like he was leaping over boundaries – and Arthur _definitely_ didn’t look happy about that.

“John,” she warned, but he ignored it as he always did.

“Been fuckin’ the Elder of the Brotherhood of Nazi’s, have ya?”

Fuck.

══════════════════

Arthur’s eyes finally shifted to Hancock – and maybe that was the goal the entire time because the ghoul was already staring at him with an expectant look; and once they made eye contact, the mayor allowed a grin to slowly cross its face.

“There we go,” John said, “A little fuckin’ respect and recognition. Finally.”

“I don’t respect non-humans,” Arthur hissed.

Hancock only grinned wider. “You been treatin’ my kitten well?”

“John—” Nora began, but the ghoul squeezed her shoulder a bit. Arthur was about to explode – how _dare_ this disgusting beast touch her; and how _dare_ she be okay with it!?

“Don’t worry, sister. I’m only lookin’ out for ya,” the ghoul cooed.

“I don’t believe our relationship is any of your business,” Arthur growled.

Nora’s eyes snapped up to him then and her brows furrowed almost questioningly; he saw the reaction but didn’t look at her, though he knew why she’d turned his way. He’d said ‘relationship’ rather than ‘agreement’ or something else, or without specifying how what they had between them – originally, at least – was only about sex. But he wouldn’t give this ghoul the chance to think it could fuck her just because she wasn’t officially off the market.

“Oh, but her wellbeing _is_ my business.”

“She’s not your concern, _ghoul._ End of story.”

Danse had his thumb and forefinger pushed into his eyes as the two went back and forth and Nora was glaring down at the table. MacCready, on the other hand, had a smirk on his face and listened to the argument intently – and Arthur wanted to, once again, throw the mercenary off the Prydwen.

“Everyone in Goodneighbor is my concern, _especially_ her old man. But if I gotta kick you outta here just to keep the peace and quiet, don’t think I fuckin’ won’t.” Hancock’s voice was low and threatening now but it didn’t faze him.

But it seemed Nora had enough now. “Yeah, so, as much as I appreciate all this fighting over me and all the alpha male bullshit – it’s quite flattering, really – can we just, ya know, _not?”_ she interjected while huffing a bit with annoyance. “I came here to speak to Dr. Amari. We’ll talk to her, stay the night, and be back on our way by morning, alright? Sorry to cause trouble, John.” With that, Nora stood up and pushed her seat back to step away from the table while Arthur and Danse immediately followed.

But before she could step more then a couple feet away, MacCready called her back. He was standing as she returned to him, one of his hands at her side and the other at her hip as his lips were beside her ear while he whispered. Arthur couldn’t hear what was being said, but he narrowed his eyes just slightly as Mac made eye contact with him. A smirk crossed Nora’s lips and she whispered something back before kissing him on the cheek and walking back toward the two soldiers. MacCready then shoved his hands in his pockets and watched her walk away, very clearly looking at her ass before returning his gaze to Arthur, the smirk growing.

He would definitely throw the mercenary off the Prydwen one day.

══════════════════

Nora slipped into the hotel room and was greeted by a pair of blue eyes and a pair of brown eyes, both curious as to what she discovered from speaking with Dr. Amari in the Memory Den. She first looked to Danse, noticing how he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, elbows on his knees, and perked up when she entered; and then to Arthur, who was sitting on the bed with his back leaned against the wall and a cigarette between his lips.

She shut the door behind her. “So, there’s good news and bad news,” she said as she went to the dresser to retrieve the ashtray atop it. “The good news is Dr. Amari told me how to find the Railroad.” The vaultie returned to the bed and held the tray out to Arthur, who just sort of looked at it and then at her, repeating the action a few times before rolling his eyes and snuffing the cigarette out into it. She gave him a brief smile of appreciation. “The bad news, however, is I can’t take either of you along with me.”

Neither Danse nor Arthur were pleased to hear that.

“I will _not_ allow you to go alone,” the Elder said. She could almost feel his temper flaring and making the temperature in the room grow hot.

“I won’t be alone,” she reassured him, trying to keep her voice calm as she began to move back toward the dresser where she found the ashtray so she could put it back.

“Oh? And who will you be taking with you? The mercenary you spread your legs for or the ghoul that wishes you would, assuming you haven’t already?”

“Arthur!” Danse snapped; that seemed to be enough to shut the young Elder up for now.

But his words had already been spoken. Nora froze in place, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips parted just slightly as she stared ahead at the wall, letting it all mull around in her head and sink in. But after a long moment of silence, she allowed a forced smile to wash over her features before she turned around to face him, her hand gripping the ceramic piece tight enough that her knuckles turned white. “Thanks for accompanying me out here,” she said as she started for the door.

He said her name once, then twice, but nothing stopped her – and then he said it a third time in the same sharp tone he used when telling her to do things like suck his cock or bend over the desk and stick her ass out or scream his name; and just like usual when he used that tone, she paused. One hand was on the knob while the other still gripped the ashtray, but she didn’t turn to face him.

“I don’t mind if you take MacCready. Just not the ghoul,” he said.

Oh, well wasn’t that fucking sweet of him? And yet it was still a fucking lie. Quickly, Nora turned to face him, pulling her arm back before sending it forward and chucking the ceramic ashtray directly at him – and it collided with the wall right beside his head with a loud _crash_ , sending the cigarette butt, ash, and pieces of ceramic onto his shoulder and lap. Danse was up in a heartbeat, putting his body between her and where Arthur remained seated to stop it from going any further. But just because she didn’t have anything else to throw right away didn’t mean she wouldn’t spit venom in his eyes to blind him until she _could_ find something.

“You do _not_ get to dictate who I am friends with, Arthur. My father couldn’t do it, Nate couldn’t do it, and you sure as shit won’t do it, either.” The vaultie was glaring at him from around Danse, though the Elder hadn’t even moved from his spot on the bed – instead, he was just staring at her in return. “You’re not my husband nor my fucking boyfriend, either, so stop trying to play those roles.” 

The small room descended into silence for a few moments, the only sounds breaking it being Nora’s huffing from her anger and the pounding of her pulse in her ears – but she assumed they wouldn’t be able to hear that. But she reached into her pocket and grabbed a holotape, tossing it into Arthur’s lap though he did nothing to catch it and instead let it fall where it landed. “There’s the holotape Amari gave me. Have a safe trip back to your fucking castle, Elder Maxson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, did y'all think Arthur was done with his jealousy and possessiveness?


	42. Rebound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I guess I could fuck someone else,” she murmured, and he watched as her eyes slowly looked him up and down appraisingly.
> 
> “You could. Got someone in mind?” Hancock asked, his voice teasing.
> 
> “Yeah, I think I do.”

The Statehouse was quiet aside from MacCready’s soft snores from the couch, at least until the door downstairs was flung open, followed by one of the Neighborhood Watch ghouls scolding the perpetrator for being unnecessarily loud and aggressive. Hancock remained sitting at his desk, boots propped up on the furniture as he took a drag of his cigarette and listened to the angry footsteps ascend the stairs.

Looked like his kitten had come home, probably wounded and needing a bowl of milk.

He knew soldier boy number two wasn’t treating her right – that was obvious from the first glance. The guy was possessive, jealous, _bigoted;_ Nora had a heart of gold, so how she even ended up with a guy like that? Fuck if he knew. But soldier boys coming into Goodneighbor often meant trouble, and if she was stomping her way up to his office – especially alone, because there was only one set of footsteps and he knew her old man wouldn’t let her come up here with a _ghoul_ if they were on good terms – then he must have caused her some grief between when the mayor last saw her and now. 

So, he knew what she’d come for: he’d be her rebound, which wasn’t something he was unfamiliar with when it came to women, especially women who were in relationships with men who were bigoted out the ass and despised ghouls. Those women would fight with their lovers and then seek out the first ghoul they found and fuck ‘em just to get back at their man, and Hancock was often that very ghoul.

Nora stomped into his office, her eyes swirling with rage and her claws exposed as she walked over to the two couches and plopped herself down on the one opposite MacCready. The sniper had his arm over his eyes as he slept, the poor kid having drank himself unconscious after being denied some quality pussy. He’d be out for a while.

She was breathing heavily as she sat in the middle of the couch, arms crossed over her chest and legs crossed at the knees while she glared at the sleeping mercenary across from her, then down at the table where jet and mentats littered its surface. John remained silent, watching her as he took another drag of his cigarette, savoring the nicotine in his lungs before slowly exhaling the smoke through his nose and mouth. She was waiting for him to speak first – but he wouldn’t. He’d let her cool down and retract her claws, then she’d come sit in his lap and start kissing on him. He knew the routine.

Hancock snuffed the cigarette out in the ashtray on his desk by the time her shoulders relaxed, though there was still tension in the air and plain on her face. Maybe she wouldn’t come to him on her own – he should have known better. Nora wasn’t like the other women he knew; she wasn’t from this time, so she never played by the same rules as everyone else. He’d have to adapt to her style.

One boot was placed on the ground with a _thud_ , followed by the other one, and the ghoul slowly brought himself to stand. A pair of blue eyes darted over to him, watching his every move as he slowly made his way over to the couch where she resided, then took a seat beside her. She was still silent, and that was fine, because he didn’t need her to talk when he knew what she’d come for – what she wanted from him.

He reached into his pocket, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and pulling out another one before stuffing the pack back in, then snatching the lighter from the table to light the stick between his lips, flicking the flame against it until it burned a deep red, orange, and yellow. The flip-lighter was placed back onto the table and he settled into the couch before stretching his arm onto the back of it behind her, giving her time to accept her own decision of having sought him out after fighting with her man. They sometimes needed to realize what they were doing before going any further – he knew that. And while he hated the fact, he’d come to accept it, regardless.

But she still wasn’t moving, and her gaze had fallen to the floor now.

“I ever tell you how I became a ghoul?” he asked.

The vaultie’s head turned and she looked at him with a curious expression. “Not from the war?”

A small chuckle escaped his throat. “Nah, I ain’t as old as you, sister. I came into this town about a decade ago, had a smooth set of skin back then. While I was busy making myself a pillar of this community, I would go on these, like, wild tears.” The hand holding his cigarette between his index and middle finger lifted into the air, palm flat and fingers slightly splayed as he slowly swiped it from right to left as if telling her to imagine. “I was young,” he added, bringing the cigarette back to his lips and taking a deep inhale. “Any chems I could find, the more exotic, the better. Finally found this experimental radiation drug – only one of its kind left and only one hit.”

Nora’s body shifted, her legs uncrossing so one could bend and move onto the couch as she faced him and listened intently to his story. She was relaxing more, he could tell.

“Oh, man, the high was so worth it. I’m living with the side effects, but hey, what’s not to love about immortality?” he asked as he flashed her a toothy grin. She smiled in return, her cheeks tinting a little pink. John took another slow drag of his cigarette, letting the silence stew for a moment to see if she’d speak – but she didn’t. He’d have to keep coaxing it out of her. “So, you gonna tell me why you came to see me while your soldier boys are still in my town?”

Nora’s eyes dropped at that point, focusing on her hands where they were fidgeting atop her knee. Hancock’s black, watery gaze looked to her, watching and waiting, giving her enough time to think his question over and how she wanted to answer it.

“I fought with Arthur,” she whispered.

He nodded his head in understanding – it was as he expected. The boy had done something stupid and upset her and now she was here to fuck around with a ghoul as a rebound just to rub it in the soldier’s face that she’d done something she knew he’d hate. “And?”

“He’s an asshole.”

“That’s what happens when you date soldier boys, kitten. Especially young ones who get a lot of power; it goes to their heads and they think they own everything because of it.” He watched her eyebrows furrow and her hand raise so her fingertip tapped the tip of her nose in thought – it was a damn cute thing she did. “I’m sure he’ll come around, sister. Just gotta make him realize what he’s missin’ out on.”

Finally, those blue eyes flicked up to him as she took the bait, but he’d looked away and instead finished off the cigarette before snuffing it out into one of the ashtrays on the table. He really needed to empty them all soon – they were getting pretty full.

“How do I do that?” she asked; her tone was quiet, and she didn’t look away from him when she spoke.

“However you want. Ignore him, deny him sex until he comes begging for it, fuck someone else. There’re countless ways you can do it, just gotta find what works best.” It was only then did he finally meet her gaze and that notice her cheeks, which were once tinted a light shade of pink, were now a slightly darker shade. Fuck, she was blushing.

“I guess I could fuck someone else,” she murmured, and he watched as her eyes slowly looked him up and down appraisingly.

“You could. Got someone in mind?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Yeah, I think I do.” Her tongue darted out between her lips to wet her lower one and he immediately looked to it, a slight smirk taking over his face.

“And who’s that, kitten?”

“MacCready.”

Hancock could only grin and roll his eyes. “Well, then I guess you’ll be waiting a while since the poor kid is passed out.”

“That’s true,” she said, “Or I could just fuck you.”

“You could, but that’s assuming _I_ want to fuck _you.”_

“Oh, well in that case, I’m sure I can find someone else. Maybe Magnolia,” she said with a shrug.

“Now, hold on,” Hancock protested before reaching over and grabbing at her hips, pulling her into his lap so she was straddling him. “I just said it was assuming, not that I actually didn’t.”

Nora settled herself atop him, her arms going over his shoulders as she stared down at him. “Oh, I see. So, you _do_ want to fuck me?”

“Of course I do, kitten. Been waitin’ to fuck you since I first laid eyes on ya.” A grin stretched across his face again before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into a kiss. It was gentle at first; he’d take it slow in the beginning and give her enough time to change her mind just in case she wanted to. He wouldn’t force her into anything or make her feel like it was something she was obligated to do, so he’d make sure to just kiss her and toy with her a bit, maybe get her off once or twice before they went any further. The last thing he wanted was to give her enough regret to make her resent him.

But they only kissed for a minute or two before she slowly pulled her lips away, leaving them slightly panting in each other’s spaces. “John,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he replied.

“Don’t ever try to take advantage of my vulnerability again. Do you understand me?”

Ah, shit.

“Yeah, kitten. Loud and clear.”

“Good.” But she didn’t move from his lap and instead just kept talking. “Now, I want you to come with me to find the Railroad.”

“Ain’t gonna take your soldier boys?” he asked.

“No. I think you’re the best person to go with me. So, will you?”

This wasn’t exactly the type of rebound he was expecting, but why the fuck not. “Yeah, alright.”

══════════════════

The Freedom Trail – of course. It made so much more sense when she realized it was the _literal_ Freedom Trail. The markers along the ground that provided letters and numbers were easy enough to decipher, and she basically guessed what the word would be after the third clue. Not really that hard, to be honest; they should probably change that.

The trail led her and Hancock to the Old North Church, where they took out some feral ghouls before ending up in the basement, traversing some tunnels before finding themselves in front of some sort of panel. Nora took some time to punch in the deciphered puzzle before the wall to its left opened, granting them access to go further into its corridors. But when they went into the pitch black, a bright spotlight was turned on and blinded them.

“Stop right there!” a woman’s voice commanded. Nora froze as if Arthur Maxson himself had told her to do so in the bedroom. “You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting, but before we go any further, answer my questions. Who the hell are you?”

“Why don’t you tell me who you are first?” Nora replied.

The woman before her hesitated, unsure if she wanted to reveal her identity, but ultimately conceded. “In a world full of suspicion, treachery, and hunters – we’re the synths’ only friends. We’re the Railroad. So, answer my question.”

Okay, good. They were who she was looking for. “I followed the Freedom Trail looking for you. I’m not your enemy.”

“If that’s true,” the woman said, “Then you have nothing to fear. Who told you how to contact us?”

Nora shook her head. “I’m not about to get anyone into shit. They trusted me with the information, so I won’t reveal a name.”

“We’ll find out one way or another,” the lady said with irritation thick in her voice. “I’m Desdemona, the leader of the Railroad. And you are—” A man came in behind her, dark sunglasses hiding some of his face. “Deacon, where have you been?”

“You’re having a party. What gives with my invitation?” Deacon asked. Why did he sound like one of those beach bros who always said _’surf’s up, dudes!’_?

“I need intel,” Desdemona hissed, “Who is this?”

“Woooow,” Deacon drawled, “News flash, boss, but this lady is kind of a big deal out there.”

Nora let a grin creep onto her face as a hand went to her chest. “Aw, I’m glad someone noticed – that’s touching.”

“You know, you’re practically famous. The Railroad owes you a crate – hell, a _truckload_ – of Nuka-Cola for what you did to Kellogg. He was our public enemy number one.”

“So, you’re _vouching_ for her?” Desdemona asked, her voice full of surprise and suspicion.

“Yes! Trust me, she’s someone we want on our side. Hell, she took down a Courser.”

“That changes things,” the Railroad leader admitted, giving Nora a once over. “So, stranger, why did you want to meet with us, anyway? Does it have to do with the Courser?”

“Yes, actually. I have its chip but don’t have the resources to decode it like I need, but I heard you might. So, I figured you would want to get your hands on it if we share whatever intel it provides.”

Desdemona’s eyebrows raised. “You have a _Courser chip!?_ Shit. Alright, Tinker Tom will definitely want it. But before we go any further, I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”


	43. Bra pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. She felt horrible – guilty. She hated that she’d upset him and threw something at him; that she’d acted like a child. “I don’t want to fight. We… we were doing so well.” And they were doing well – they hadn’t really fought for a while other than a couple minor disagreements; they fucked like rad rabbits, she fell asleep in his arms each night, they’d went on a fucking _date_ to the _beach_ , and she’d gotten him to leave the Prydwen for a couple days. Hell, she’d even made him _smile_. Everything was going great.
> 
> But then she fucked it up just like she always did.

She stood outside his quarters, staring at the bulkhead as if it would allow her to see inside to give her some idea of what he was doing. It was late, a little past midnight, but Arthur never slept well – or even at all – when she wasn’t there with him, so she had no doubt he was wide awake. Part of her wanted to walk right in like she normally did but she was much too nervous; what if he didn’t want her there? What if he told her to leave the second he saw her? Or what if the door was locked specifically to keep her out?

No, she’d gotten this far, but she just needed to suck it up and knock on the door.

Taking a deep breath, Nora gently rapped her knuckles on the bulkhead – it always fucking hurt – and waited. There was almost an immediate _’enter’_ called out and she opened the door, silently stepping into the room and being met by familiar blue eyes. She turned around to quietly shut it but didn’t turn back right away, instead taking a second to try to regain herself to prepare to speak with him since she hadn’t seen him for nearly a week after their last fight in Goodneighbor, where he’d said hurtful things and she’d chucked an ashtray at his head.

But when she finally did turn to face him, she noticed he was sat in his usual spot – at the table in the chair closest to his desk – while he towel-dried his hair, apparently having just come from the shower. His jumpsuit was unzipped to the bottom of his sternum, dark chest hair peeking out to greet her eyes as she let them drift. _Fuck_ , she missed him.

When they made eye contact again, they stared at one another for a few long moments as she watched him run his fingers through his damp hair to brush it back and out of his face before setting the towel on the table. He hadn’t shaved his beard like he promised he would when he lost the bet – that was disappointing, but she expected him to go back on his word once they had fought.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, sky blue eyes focused on her as he waited, and she began to shift from foot to foot, growing anxious at the silence – she couldn’t fucking stand silence.

“Hi,” she whispered.

But he didn’t greet her in return. “Sit,” he ordered, his voice lacking the gentleness it usually had when he gave her commands. Still, she obeyed, moving to the same chair she usually sat in – directly to the left of his – and taking her place. He went quiet again and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, too ashamed and guilt-ridden about their fight and that she’d become violent even though he’d essentially called her a whore. There were times she’d struck him in the past, of course, but she’d never actually _thrown_ anything at him and he’d always egged her on a lot more than he did that night for her to finally snap.

But as many times as Arthur had gotten physical with her when they were fighting – grabbing, pinning, even intimidating her with his authority and size – at least he’d never struck her; and she was thankful for that.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For?”

“Throwing the ashtray at you. I shouldn’t have done that.” Nora pressed her palms together and pushed them between her knees as they bounced, keeping her eyes to the ground.

“Mm.” The noise of acknowledgement made her eyebrows furrow, but he didn’t leave a gap of quiet for too long before he continued. “It’s alright. And I apologize for saying hurtful things.”

Nora nodded her head a little, but his words weren’t really any comfort. He wasn’t acting like he usually did around her now, he was acting like he had when they’d first met – cold, distant, all business. But even with this difference, she couldn’t help but want to be held by him.

“I missed you,” she said quietly.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.

At first, she was unsure he’d even heard her since he went on to change the subject, but the more she thought about it, the more she was certain he did, and he’d instead just ignored her confession. Nora looked up to him, trying to memorize every detail of his stupid fucking face. “Yes. The Railroad has the Courser chip and they’re going to work on decoding it. They’ll contact me when they’re finished.”

He nodded his head and mumbled a quiet _’good’_ as he brought himself to stand, then moved over to his desk and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He carried them over to the table and placed a glass in front of her, then one in front of where his seat was, pouring the dark liquid into both; Nora didn’t even wait for him to finish pouring his own before she took a gulp from hers, savoring the burn as it went down her throat.

Arthur retook his seat and watched her, picking up his own glass and taking a drink before setting it back down. But they went quiet again and the silence was nearing the equivalent to carving holes in her brain.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Her voice trembled and she hated herself for it, but she needed to know.

“Yes,” he answered. Of course he was mad at her – why wouldn’t he be? She tried to murder his face with a goddamn ashtray.

“Because I took Hancock with me?” And that.

“Correct.”

The vaultie furrowed her eyebrows and looked back down to the floor. She’d taken Hancock with her to find the Railroad when Arthur had explicitly told her not to – and she did it specifically _because_ he’d told her not to, as well as because he’d find out she did. Then again, he also probably thought she’d fucked the guy, too, just like he’d accused her of doing during their fight. And then there was the fact she hadn’t even come back to the Prydwen for nearly a week, instead heading to Sanctuary to spend some time with the settlers, Dogmeat, and Codsworth, as well as to fix up her home. But he’d have known where she was the entire time despite her not checking in – he always kept tabs on her, which explained why random vertibirds showed up to help out in fights even when Danse wasn’t with her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. She felt horrible – guilty. She hated that she’d upset him and threw something at him; that she’d acted like a child. “I don’t want to fight. We… we were doing so well.” And they were doing well – they hadn’t really fought for a while other than a couple minor disagreements; they fucked like rad rabbits, she fell asleep in his arms each night, they’d went on a fucking _date_ to the _beach_ , and she’d gotten him to leave the Prydwen for a couple days. Hell, she’d even made him _smile_. Everything was going great.

But then she fucked it up just like she always did.

“We were,” he agreed; but his tone was flat as if he didn’t care anymore.

She had to ask the question that was eating at her. “Is it my fault?” For someone riddled with guilt, Nora wanted to know if he thought it was her fault – she may not necessarily believe the answer if he’d told her it wasn’t, but she still wanted to hear it, regardless.

“It is both of our faults,” he admitted, and that made the vaultie want to curl up on herself because god _damnit_ she couldn’t stop fucking up. “I’ve tried to change for you, Nora, but it seems I cannot.”

Her eyes closed tightly, head tipping down as she let out a sigh of defeat. This was a losing battle, wasn’t it? She’d lost it long ago. “I want to be with you, Arthur.”

“I know.”

“But what do you want?” She couldn’t stand having to ask him the question again – what did he want? What did Arthur Maxson want? Because, fuck, Nora had no fucking clue. And the longer he remained quiet, scratching at his beard while he thought over the question, the more anxious she got. It felt like she was on the verge of panicking.

“Something I cannot have,” the Elder answered.

Her eyes snapped up to him then, brows furrowed in confusion. “Me?”

“Yes.”

The vault dweller searched his face for answers to questions she didn’t know how to ask. He’d finally decided he wanted her – that was new. But he’d also decided he couldn’t have her – that was unfair.

“Why can’t you have me?” she asked softly. Her voice was trembling again.

But rather than answering, Arthur shook his head and closed his eyes. “Not tonight, Nora. I’m too tired to get into it. Please.”

“Oh.” Royal blue eyes dropped to stare at the floor again, but she could feel his gaze on her once more as she conceded to him; those bright blue eyes burned into her skin like she’d walked straight into ground zero of the Glowing Sea and she half wondered if her Geiger counter was broken again. His stare was almost daring her to continue questioning him so he could kick her out or scold her, but she didn’t want to fight or leave – she missed him. She _needed_ him.

Slowly, Nora stood and closed the distance between them with a couple steps toward his chair, gently sliding into his lap so she was straddling his thighs. Her arms wrapped over his shoulders and she felt his hands place on her hips as he silently watched her; she leaned forward to press her forehead to his and closed her eyes, sitting there in what felt like an intimate moment that she couldn’t help but devour because she _ached_ for it.

“I missed you so much, Arthur,” she whispered, her eyes opening to meet his, finally.

“I missed you, too.” A pain shot through her chest at his words – why had it taken so long for them to get to this point? To finally speak this way to one another? To be gentle and caring and loving even if they weren’t _in_ love?

The vaultie closed the gap between their mouths, pressing their lips firmly together in a kiss that he seemed to eagerly return; it reminded her of their time at the beach – when they fucked not quite gentle, but not quite rough, either. His hands slid up and down her sides and one of her own slid into his damp hair, fingers threading into the brown locks.

But the kiss deepened, becoming a little rougher and a little more desperate due to their time apart. His hands went to her ass, grabbing and groping while she started moving her hips back and forth on him, grinding her heat down against his already hardening cock. His lips pulled away and went to her throat, kissing and licking on her pulse point until he bit down to leave a mark, making her gasp and moan. “Fuck, Arthur.”

Nora tipped her head back, offering more of herself to him. He could have all of her – then again, he basically already did. 

One of his hands remained on her ass while the other slid up her side and to one of her breasts, roughly palming it while he bit down on the crook of her neck. A breath of air was hissed between her teeth and she pulled his hand away from her chest by the wrist, though he just moved it to the zipper on her suit instead and began tugging it down. As her collarbone was bared to him, he trailed kisses down to it, dipping his tongue into the notch in the middle before biting at the base of her throat. Her suit was pushed off her shoulders then, freeing her arms of their confines as it was shoved to bundle at her waist.

“Bed?” she asked, already breathless.

“Mm.” The Elder stood then, strong arms wrapping around her midsection so he could hold onto her while he did; her legs instinctively went around his waist with her arms over his shoulders to cling to him as he carried her to the bed, gently lying her down on her back. His body moved over hers, kisses and licks placed against her exposed chest.

“No, let me on top,” she breathed. She wanted to apologize to him for acting the way she did – she wanted to make it up to him. And what better way to do that than to focus on his pleasure? He trailed kisses back up her body until his lips met hers, where he placed a few more before his body rolled both of them over so she was on top and straddling his hips. Nora planted her hands on the mattress on either side of his head while she leaned down to kiss him again, grinding her hips against his groin as she slid a bit lower so their chests were pressed together.

But when the goddamn pillow got in her way, she made a low grumble and grabbed it, chucking it across the room before turning back to him – until she saw it. Something that didn’t match the sheets or the blanket as it partially stuck out from beneath the covers. Nora’s eyebrows furrowed as she reached forward to grab the partially-revealed item, Arthur’s gaze following her hand, and she tugged the rest of it free, pulling out… oh, god.

Rage burned deep in her stomach.

“Arthur,” she whispered, but it was almost combined with a snarl; disappointment was clear in her tone though the tremble in her voice did nothing to hide how she was ready to burst. She stared at the item even as he let out a low curse beneath his breath.

“Nora,” he sighed.

“Why?” she asked.

“Nora, please—”

Finally, she looked at him, but he’d lost the courage to look at her – and she wasn’t sure if she could blame him for it; but it only made her fucking angrier and her tone proved it. “Were you really about to fuck me in the same bed you fucked someone else in earlier?” He didn’t answer her at first, his eyes looking off to the side while his brows were knitted together. She reached forward, her hand roughly grabbing his jaw to get his attention. “The same fucking bed we’ve been sharing for months? _Our bed!?”_ But he still didn’t respond. Was he feeling guilty? Ashamed? Good. 

Nora knew she had no right to get mad he’d fucked someone else – she’d fucked MacCready not that long ago – because they were never actually a couple. But the fact he’d fucked someone in the bed she slept in and protected him from his nightmares in? The bed she felt most at peace in? No.

“I could forgive you for fucking someone else since we were never officially together, but not in the same place you beg me to sleep curled in your arms every night.” The hand that still clutched the found item threw it away and she slammed the side of her fist down against his chest; he reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from hitting him again. “No! That’s too fucking far, Arthur! You could have done it anywhere else!” Her other hand released his jaw and struck his chest with the side of her fist, managing two blows before he caught that wrist and held both within one of his hands. His free arm then reached up and wrapped around her back to pull her tightly against him, not letting her move.

“Why’d you have to fuck someone here, Arthur? Where I sleep? You couldn’t have fucked them anywhere else in this room?” She was pushing against him to get away as tears were welling in her eyes from the anger – she felt like she was going to burst. But whether it was from pain or guilt or rage or hurt, she didn’t know. “Did you do it to hurt me? Was that it?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly. His answer was so simple, and she already knew that was why he did it – she hadn’t come back for nearly a week and so he took out his frustration by fucking someone else, knowing she’d find out about it one way or another. Whether he knew something was left behind was another thing entirely – but if he did, it meant he _wanted_ to get caught.

But she already knew he fucked them in the bed because that was where it would hurt her the most, and Arthur never pulled punches.

“This was the one place I felt safe and you fucking ruined it,” she sobbed into his chest, her attempts at pushing away from him no longer continuing though he still held her wrists in his hand. “Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you keep hurting me?” 

He turned his head so his lips were against her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You always are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hate me


	44. Bra pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora had awoken a sleeping beast that wanted to curl itself around her the way Arthur curled his body behind hers at night – protectively, lovingly, and like she was the last good thing on this fucking planet.
> 
> Because he knew she was.
> 
> But then it all went downhill in Goodneighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Arthur's POV.

He was only out of the shower for a few minutes before there was a knock on his door – and he should have recognized who was knocking this late at night with such hesitation that even a radstag about to graze deep in yao guai territory would be proud; the gentle noise gave her identity away, but Arthur’s mind was too exhausted to really focus on it. He gave a firm _’enter’_ as he sat at the table, claiming the usual seat closest to his desk because he was a creature of habit and routine, a life of military involvement begetting such traits. But when his eyes locked onto the familiar vault dweller who’d claimed a spot in his life as she came into his quarters, quietly shutting the bulkhead behind her, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt deep in his chest that ended up radiating throughout his entire body.

Nora turned to look at him after hesitating, finally meeting his gaze; but they both remained silent as she watched him use a towel to dry his hair before he ran his fingers through the damp locks, brushing them back and then tossing the towel onto the table. The Elder leaned back in his chair, keeping eye contact with her as he waited for her to speak; but she was shifting from foot to foot, a sign he’d come to learn was a nervous habit of hers – he knew she didn’t like silence, and the way they were just staring at one another without saying a single thing surely didn’t help. 

“Hi,” she finally said; her voice was only a whisper, yet he’d heard her loud and clear even over the thrum of the Prydwen’s engines.

But he had no time for these games of hesitation. “Sit,” he ordered, utilizing the tone of voice he used with his soldiers rather than the one he’d always reserved for her; she could tell the difference, and he knew he had to be stern now.

The vaultie approached the seat she’d claimed as her own the first time she’d stepped foot into his quarters – the chair diagonally to his left – and sat down quietly. He could see emotion written on her face, but he wasn’t able to completely decipher exactly _which_ emotion, though he _could_ tell that her action of looking down at the floor and refusing to meet his eyes for more than a few seconds was one of submission.

“I’m sorry.” She was still whispering. Nora was not usually a whisperer unless she was upset – her voice typically carried.

“For?” he questioned, but he already knew the answer; he just wanted to hear her say it.

“Throwing the ashtray at you. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her palms pressed together and were shoved between her knees while her legs bounced; he’d known that to be a nervous habit that was almost nurturing for many people, similar to something a mother did for their child by bouncing them in her arms, but he’d rarely seen Nora do it to herself. 

He made a slight noise of acknowledgement of her apology. The Elder was glad she apologized first because he wasn’t about to do it. He knew he’d hurt her with his words and that was certainly his goal at the time; he wanted to strike hard and fast and he’d known just how to do it since he had memorized all her weak points just as he did everyone else. He was a master tactician, after all, and that meant knowing the weak points of even the woman who shared his bed. Of course, that night he hadn’t struck the worst possible one, but it was bad enough to make her snap and throw something at his head.

”It’s alright. And I apologize for saying hurtful things.”

Nora nodded her head though he knew his apology meant nothing to her, just like hers meant nothing to him. Still, they’d do their routine where they fought, apologized, then fucked to make up. 

“I missed you,” she said quietly.

The vulnerability she showed made his rough exterior begin break, but he held it together, using wonderglue to keep it from cracking any further. He couldn’t deal with her clinginess right now; he was too exhausted and felt too much guilt to let her soften him up – they just needed to have sex and get it over with so things could go back to normal, at least for a little while.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.

The vault dweller stared at him for a moment, eyebrows slightly furrowed as if she was wondering if he’d even heard what she said. He did, of course, but he chose to ignore it, and she must have granted him that small mercy by going along with the change of subject.

“Yes,” she answered, “The Railroad has the Courser chip now and they’re going to work on decoding it. They’ll contact me when they’re finished.”

Arthur nodded his head before standing. “Good,” he mumbled, then made his way over to his desk to grab two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, bringing them back to the table and setting one glass in front of her and then the other glass in front of where he sat. He poured some of the dark liquid for them both, but she was already taking a gulp of hers before he even had a chance to cap the bottle and sit back down. Once he did, however, he went quiet as he took a drink and watched her.

But her next question made him feel even guiltier than he already did.

“Are you mad at me?” Her voice was trembling despite the attempt to hide it.

“Yes.” It was the truth – though not all of it. He was mad at her, but he was also mad at himself.

“Because I took Hancock with me?”

“Correct.” Once again, it was the truth – and still not all of it. He was angry she took the ghoul along with her despite him telling her not to, not just because it was against the Codex to befriend beasts like it but because it had the audacity to flirt with her, too; plus, she‘d brought it on her mission just to spite him. And then he was also mad at himself for hurting her like he’d promised he wouldn’t do again.

Nora was looking at the floor again, her eyes scanning it as if she was reading something – perhaps she was examining the etchings of their past carved into the metal and searching for where they went wrong. But Arthur knew the answer to that – they didn’t go wrong anywhere because they were doomed to fail from the start.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight. We… we were doing so well,” she said.

“We were,” he agreed.

He knew they’d been doing well – hell, _everyone_ knew they were; or those who knew of their relationship-slash-arrangement knew. He’d tried to be gentler with her and adapt to who she wanted and needed him to be. He’d taken care of her when she became sick, took her on a date even though he didn’t even realize that was what he was doing until she’d pointed it out, and he’d even went out into the Commonwealth on a mission just for her. They were having fun and had an extremely active sex life and he’d never felt so _alive_ and _young_ in his entire life despite being twenty years old. Nora had awoken a sleeping beast that wanted to curl itself around her the way Arthur curled his body behind hers at night – protectively, lovingly, and like she was the last good thing on this fucking planet.

Because he knew she was.

But then it all went downhill in Goodneighbor.

“Is it my fault?” she asked.

Arthur almost winced at the question. He knew she carried guilt on her shoulders about everything, even for things that were nowhere near her fault and were completely out of her control. She blamed herself for her husband’s death and her son’s kidnapping; she blamed herself for her settlements not being protected enough despite not having the resources to build up; she blamed herself for their fights even when what they were fighting about was entirely his fault. This time, however, it was _mostly_ his fault because he, once again, just couldn’t stop being jealous and possessive over her and everything she did, but she also chose to push his buttons and do things just to spite him. It wasn’t often they met in the middle.

“It is both of our faults,” he said quietly, “I’ve tried to change for you, Nora, but it seems I cannot.” And he did try to change – he tried to be a better leader and shed less blood when he could, just as she had asked of him; a better lover who focused on her needs and adapted to what worked best for her during sex and with aftercare; and a better man to become someone who she deserved and who deserved her. But every time he thought he was getting somewhere, he always ended up taking ten steps backward and reverting to his old self, no matter how far he got.

The vaultie let out a sigh of defeat – the sound didn’t fit her. Nora was not the one to give up even when she was in a losing battle and even when the battle had already been lost long ago. “I want to be with you, Arthur.”

His chest _ached._

“I know.”

“But what do you want?” she asked.

Maxson knew what he wanted, and he’d known for a while now – he wanted _her._ He’d admitted the fact to Danse not long ago but had avoided bringing it up to her because the paladin asked him to take a while to think on it and because he was still unsure on some things regarding if he could even be with her. But he _wanted_ to be with her — to go to sleep beside her and wake up with her in his arms; to have a future with her; to have a family with her; to actually become a better person or at least die trying. But he knew all of these things were futile.

He scratched at his beard. “Something I cannot have,” he answered blandly.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his gaze and a wave of confusion washed over her face. “Me?” she asked.

There was a slight moment of hesitation, but he admitted it. “Yes.”

Silence fell upon them again but only for a few seconds before she was asking a question that he could never prepare himself for.

“Why can’t you have me?”

It was a discussion for another time, but he knew the biggest reason was because he would hurt her – or, rather, he would _keep_ hurting her.

The Elder shook his head, though, and closed his eyes momentarily. “Not tonight, Nora. I’m too tired to get into it. Please.” It was the truth – he was too tired to get into the deep discussion of why he couldn’t be with her despite wanting to, but he was also too tired to handle the inevitable fight the conversation would bring.

“Oh.” Her reply was simple but full of disappointment, and she looked away from him again as her eyes dropped to the floor, darting around to search for the answer in the vanilla metal. To her dismay, she found none. But she seemed to settle her mind on something else, instead looking up at him for only a second before she stood, and Arthur knew then it was time for them to finally make up – and he was glad for it. They didn’t need to talk anymore; they could just fuck and then he could finally sleep with her there in his arms until the next time they inevitably fought.

Nora climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs and wrapping her arms over his shoulders; he placed his hands on her hips and waited for her next move. He’d let them move at her pace for now. But when her forehead pressed against his and she closed her eyes, he felt his chest ache again at the intimate moment. 

“I missed you so much, Arthur,” she whispered before opening her eyes again to look at him.

He couldn’t help himself. “I missed you, too.” If only she’d come back sooner, maybe he wouldn’t have—

Her lips pressed firmly against his and pulled him into a kiss that he could only return, his hands then sliding up and down her sides while one of hers threaded fingers into his damp hair. The kiss quickly became rougher, proving how much they missed one another in their nearly week-long separation, and he found himself groping her ass with both hands while he attacked her neck with his lips before biting onto her pulse point. She ground her cunt down against his already-hardening cock, gasping from the bite and following it up by moaning his name with an expletive, which only egged him on.

One of his hands left her ass, sliding up her side and to her front, where his palm went to one breast as his fingers splayed and he groped and squeezed while another bite was placed into the crook of her neck at the same time. A hiss of pain was inhaled between her teeth and she grabbed his wrist, prying it away from her chest but he just moved his hand to her vault suit and tugged the zipper down instead. Arthur’s lips moved to her now-exposed collarbone, tongue dipping into the notch in the middle just before he bit the base of her throat.

She was panting by the time he slid her suit down her shoulders and off her arms, letting it rest at her waist. “Bed?” she asked.

“Mm.”

The noise was one of confirmation and he wrapped his arms around her midsection before standing, her legs going around his hips and her arms over his shoulders as she clung to him while he carried her to the bed. He gently laid her down on her back then climbed atop her, pressing their bodies tightly together while their lips met again briefly, but kisses were soon being trailed down her chin, throat, and to her exposed chest while he licked and kissed at the thick freckles.

But Nora seemed to have other plans for how they made up. “No, let me on top,” she breathed.

If she wanted to suck his dick or ride him, he certainly wouldn’t complain. The Elder trailed kisses and licks and bites back up her body until he found her mouth again, placing a few more kisses to her lips before his body abruptly rolled them so she was on top and straddling his hips. Her hands planted on the mattress on either side of his head, their lips locked into a kiss while she ground her clothed groin against his, drawing a moan from deep in his chest from the friction.

And then it all happened so fast. Her body lowered onto his, so their chests were pressed together, but she seemed to grumble about something to do with the pillow before grabbing it and chucking it across the room; yet, when she turned back to him, her eyes flicked up and to the side, brows knitting together. Nora then reached over and he tilted his head to look at what she was doing, but when she grabbed ahold of the end of a white strap with four clasps on the end, he knew what she’d found.

_Fuck._

The vaultie tugged it out from under the blanket before a red tint began running up her neck and started to take over her face, and he knew it wasn’t from embarrassment or shyness – but pure rage.

“Arthur.” Her voice was a whisper, but he heard it mixed with a snarl, and he knew the familiar tone of disappointment was also within. It was something he’d become familiar with over his lifetime.

Maxson cursed beneath his breath. “Nora,” he sighed.

“Why?”

He wanted to explain, he _needed_ to explain – but… what was there to even explain? She could have assumed what happened and she’d likely be correct; it was all fairly straight forward.

She hadn’t looked at him since she found the bra twisted beneath the covers, but when she finally did flick her eyes to his face, he had to tear his gaze away before they made contact with hers. He may have had trouble reading emotions, but he knew the look of hurt in Nora’s eyes well enough by now to recognize it – because he was often the cause. And right now, he didn’t want to see it. He couldn’t. Even if that was his initial goal.

“Were you really about to fuck me in the same bed you fucked someone else in earlier?”

Her tone was rough and angry, a contrast to the soft and guilty one she’d had minutes ago. He couldn’t blame her, though, but he also couldn’t bring himself to respond or make eye contact; he was ashamed of what he’d done. But she reached forward, delicate fingers acting anything but that and grabbed his jaw, forcing him to give her his undivided attention and finally look at her. And he did, his sky blue eyes meeting her royal blue ones.

“The same fucking bed we’ve been sharing for months?” Her nails were digging into his cheeks beneath his beard and they were threatening to pierce the skin. Perhaps he deserved it. _”Our_ bed!?” Her emphasis on _’our’_ made him almost wince – she was right. It was no longer just _his_ bed – it had become _their_ bed; and even though he and Nora weren’t together, he’d still brought another woman into her space.

But that was his intention, wasn’t it?

He’d sought out a past sub of his, one he had to cut off a few years prior because she got too clingy but was still part of his crew, and approached her with the offer of fucking for the night without taking it any further. She’d eagerly accepted and he fucked her on the bed, taking her roughly, causing her pain and making her cry out without asking if she was enjoying it – they had a safe word for this exact reason – because he just wanted Nora to _hurt_ from what he was doing behind her back and in her space. His thrusts utilized his pent-up rage and the cries and screams of the woman he’d only allowed to take him on her hands and knees while he shoved her face into the mattress made it all the worse.

He got her off, of course, but he didn’t spend much time with her otherwise – and he didn’t provide her any aftercare like he knew he should have, but instead threw her out as soon as they were done. She’d hastily searched for her clothes the first time he’d uttered the word _’leave,’_ in which she’d found most of them fairly quickly, but by the time he’d told her to _’get the fuck out of my sight,’_ he knew she’d left something behind since she was still searching; but he didn’t care, and she obeyed and left quickly.

Well, Nora found what was left behind.

“I could forgive you for fucking someone else since we were never officially together, but not in the same place you beg me to sleep curled in your arms every night,” she growled, her voice just slightly cracking.

His chest hurt but not because she’d thrown the bra away from her and slammed the side of her fist against his pectoral – but because he was watching her break down after he’d hurt her much worse than he’d intended. This was entirely different than the other times they’d fought when he’d intentionally hurt her.

Arthur grabbed her wrist after she made the first blow, pinning it against his chest.

“No! That’s too fucking far, Arthur! You could have done it anywhere else!” Her other hand let go of his chin and she slammed another fist against his other pectoral in the same manner, making two more strikes before he managed to also catch that one, then held both wrists in one hand against him. She tried to yank them out of his grasp, but he used his free arm to wrap around her upper back and pull her down against him, holding her tightly and not letting her move away.

Nora continued to struggle, of course – pushing against him with her trapped hands and forearms to try to get away as her voice cracked even more than it had before, this time signaling to him that tears were forming in her eyes.

”Why’d you have to fuck someone here, Arthur? Where I sleep? You couldn’t have fucked them anywhere else in this room?” Her breathing was becoming labored as she pushed against him, but he could feel her struggles getting weaker. Her adrenaline was already wearing out. “Did you do it to hurt me? Was that it?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly; he couldn’t stop himself from telling her the truth. He had, in fact, sought out the other woman mere hours before Nora returned – not because he knew the vault dweller would come back that night, but because he was angry with her and he needed to relieve his frustrations, and he wanted to _hurt_ her for being so goddamn disrespectful and disobedient and for being gone for so long.

She'd hurt him and that was a feeling he didn't entirely understand, nor did he know the extent of the damage she'd caused; and being born a soldier meant life and everything in it was war. So, when she caused the ache in his chest and made him hurt by doing something just to spite him, he wanted to retaliate because that was what he knew how to do. And so he did, by fucking someone else in their bed. And he’d had his suspicions she’d slept with people other than him but never actual proof, though he knew if he’d asked that she’d likely tell him the truth – not that he’d ever ask, of course. And he knew if he’d fucked someone else in his room on the table or in the shower or bent over his desk, she’d likely be jealous, but not angry like _this._

Which was why he’d fucked someone else on the bed – on _their_ bed – where Nora slept every night when she was aboard the Prydwen, wrapped in his arms. He wanted to hurt her because she’d hurt him – but he didn’t realize the extent of the damage he’d just caused her until she was laying on top of him crying.

“This was the one place I felt safe and you fucking ruined it,” she sobbed against him. The tears in her eyes were soaking into his jumpsuit, some making it into the slight opening that bared his chest since he’d had it undone when she’d come into the room. She stopped fighting him and, instead, buried her face into his chest as he held her wrists and kept his arm wrapped tightly around her back, holding her close. “Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you keep hurting me?” she asked between sobs.

Arthur tightly closed his eyes and turned his head, pressing his lips against her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but he wasn’t sure she could even hear him.

“You always are.”

He fucking hated himself.


	45. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let go of me, Danse! I’m gonna fuck her shit up and teach her to never even _look_ at him again, let alone fuck him!” she growled.

“Your accomplishments in the Commonwealth are exemplary, which is why you’ve been chosen to join the Brotherhood of Steel as initiates.” Six sets of eyes were focused only on him as he welcomed them to the organization within the observation deck. “We, as your brothers and sisters, are honored to serve beside you, and we have high expectations for your—”

A soft _thump_ came from just outside the observation deck and Arthur’s eyes diverted from the group before him to the ladder leading up to the main deck, noticing a bundle of sheets and a blanket were at the bottom, along with two white pillows.

“What is—”

A mattress was dropped down next, landing on top of the sheets at an angle on its side before rolling off onto the metal floor. The initiates were all turned and watching, confusion washed over their faces as they glanced around, looking back to the Elder.

“Can someone _please_ explain to me what is happening?” Arthur growled, though everyone in the room with him remained quiet; he wasn’t really even asking them, anyway, since he knew they’d have no clue. But when an undergarment was thrown down from the main deck and landed on top of the bundle of sheets, it dawned on him.

Nora.

“Dismissed,” he growled to the initiates.

Feet clad in black boots and thick thighs and an ass he knew well covered in cobalt blue fabric came into his view as she descended the ladder, followed by the rest of her. She jumped down off the last few rungs and landed on the sheets, almost losing her balance when her ankle nearly rolled because her foot ended up on top of a clump. Arthur was almost immediately on her.

 _”Nora,”_ he hissed, sounding more like a cat than a human – Emmett would be proud, “What do you think you’re doing?”

The vault dweller turned her gaze to him, and he saw an almost innocent expression on her face; if he didn’t know who she was, he might have been fooled. “Taking out the trash,” she said nonchalantly as if the answer was that simple. She then stepped past him and grabbed one end of the mattress, dragging it toward the door that led out to the flight deck.

He followed her. “Where are you going?”

“I just told you, Arthur. I’m taking out the trash. Were you even listening?” Her voice was much too calm for someone who was clearly up to no good.

Kells came up the stairs, however, and was almost directly at the top when he turned his head and set his sights on Nora dragging a naked mattress across the floor, only to hear Arthur aggressively questioning her before she gave him backtalk and got away with it.

“What is the meaning of this?” Kells asked in a stern voice, his eyes on Nora. 

But both Arthur and Nora ignored him; instead, the Elder continued speaking. “Why?” he asked the vault dweller.

Nora stopped at the single word question and her narrowed eyes met his glare as she dropped the mattress with a _thunk_. Despite being a foot shorter than him, she stood as tall as she could and squared her shoulders when approaching him; but it wasn’t the slow, threatening walk she’d learned from him when trying to intimidate people – no, she was _charging_ him like a fucking bighorn until she was in his face, chest to… well, stomach.

“Because it’s ruined, Arthur, just like I told you last night. You went and fucked someone else in our bed so now I have to throw it out and get a different one. Do it again and I’ll just throw that one out, too. Oh, and yeah, gotta throw the covers out with it, so we’ll need a new set. And some pillows, can’t forget about those.”

Her voice was raised as she got in his face, and to the initiates who actually hadn’t left the observation deck despite being dismissed, it probably looked like a marital spat between the Elder and his wife where he’d cheated on her – but to Kells and the lancers and everyone else who’d overheard them, they very well knew that was not the case. Which meant anyone who _didn’t_ know they were together – sort of – now had that information. But maybe that was her intention all along: to announce it. She was always clever that way.

They stared one another down for a few seconds before she tipped her chin up and spun on her heels, and he knew if she had long hair it would have flipped in his face. She returned to the mattress and picked up the end again, then dragged it the rest of the way to the bulkhead that was the last barrier between her and the flight deck. Arthur continued to follow and when she glanced back at the door, she then flicked her eyes to him.

“Be a dear and open the door for me, will you?”

He stood there with narrowed eyes, thinking over the strategies and their outcomes before him. If he told her to stand down or to put the stuff back, she’d only make it worse for him; but if he let her do whatever she intended to do with the items, then she might be able to just get it out of her system.

Besides, they could easily get another bed.

Arthur let out an irritated sigh before he stepped around her and the bed to open the door, pushing it wide so she had enough room to drag the naked mattress through it. The soldier standing guard just outside was confused, to say the least, if the muttered _’what the fuck?’_ was anything to go by; but they watched as Nora dragged the mattress out of the command deck and onto the flight deck, down the steps, and then threw it over the railing and into the ocean below.

The Elder stood just inside the doorway, watching as she leaned over the railing just enough to see it fall before she began coming back inside to retrieve the bra and sheets, most likely with the intention of sending them to their demise alongside the bed. Kells came to stand at his side, clearly not pleased with having been ignored nor with what Arthur was allowing to happen.

“Permission to speak freely, Elder Maxson?”

Arthur let out a sigh but nodded his head. “Permission granted.”

“Have you lost your goddamn _mind!?”_ Kells snarled.

“I suppose I have, yes.”

“You’ve been sleeping together for months, let her walk all over you, allowed her to get away with insubordination no other soldier on this ship would _ever_ get away with, and now she’s _throwing your bed over the flight deck!?”_

He nodded again. “Looks that way, yes.”

The lancer-captain lightly scoffed, and Arthur barely heard it, but the older man remained quiet as Nora passed them by with the bundle of sheets and bra in her arms, now walking out to the flight deck to undoubtedly chuck them over the railing, too.

“I hope you know what the hell you’re doing, sir,” Kells grumbled.

While his answer was not reassuring, it was something the young Elder had finally come to accept when it came to Nora. “I don’t.”

══════════════════

She’d had time to cool off since throwing the bed, sheets, pillows, and bra off the flight deck and was now eating dinner in the mess hall, sitting across from Danse; he’d been keeping a close eye on her since this morning – whether that was to keep her out of trouble on his own volition or because Arthur had specifically instructed him to stay on her ass, she had no idea. But ever since this morning, he’d been following her around like an adorable lost puppy that she wanted to adopt.

And that was fine.

But she’d been pushing her food around the tray for the past few minutes, mostly uninterested in eating the mutfruit, tato, and instamash that had been provided for dinner. Danse wasn’t very conversational at the moment and was instead scarfing down his food like he hadn’t eaten in the past week. She thought about making a bet with him, maybe something to do with pissing off Teagan since the bastard was always glaring at her and giving her dirty looks, but she knew he wouldn’t go for anything she suggested because decorum and all that bullshit.

People were coming and going from the mess and the once-empty table behind her now had three scribes who, for some reason, didn’t know how to whisper and instead were just obnoxiously loud.

 _”Oh, yeah, he was definitely the best lay I’ve ever had!”_ exclaimed one scribe with a squeaky voice that reminded Nora of a mouse or some other small rodent. It was fucking annoying.

 _”Come on, Beth. What about you? Not including… well, you know who. That was years ago,”_ the second scribe asked. Her voice was a little lower but still fucking annoying and just as loud as the others.

Beth, the third scribe, had a less annoying voice and sounded much more pleasant. At first. _”Well, actually, he approached me yesterday about doing it again just one time.”_ The other two were surprised but asked if she jumped on the offer. _”Hell yeah, I did. Honestly, he’s even gotten better. Like, **a lot** better, which is really saying something because he was always amazing in bed.”_

Nora’s eyes were staring at the mutfruit on her tray. When had she even cut it into pieces?

 _”Took me from behind, wouldn’t let me touch him other than when he fucked me. I tried to get him to bend me over the table but he only wanted me on the bed.”_ There was a quiet agreement of how ‘weird’ it was before Beth continued. _”He didn’t even do any aftercare. I mean, I didn’t really need it, but he was extremely rough, and it hurt – in a good way – but he’s never denied me aftercare before. And almost immediately after he came, he told me to get out like he was pissed at me or something. I started getting my things and getting dressed, but when he yelled at me again, I just said fuck it and left.”_

Nora was staring down at her mutfruit still but now the pieces had been cut into even smaller ones and the tato was cut up, too. She didn’t remember doing that, either.

_”The only thing I couldn’t find before he kicked me out was my bra. Which sucks, because it was my favorite one.”_

Blue eyes slowly lifted to meet Danse’s gaze, finding his chocolate hues were already staring at her in warning. He narrowed them a bit and his head turned and tipped down just slightly. “Nora,” he rumbled.

But the vaultie just gave a gentle, innocent smile before picking up a piece of the mutilated mutfruit from her tray, taking a bite out of it and then setting it back down. “Welp, I’m done eating,” she said despite having not even touched her food except for mindlessly hacking it up and then the one bite she just took, “I’ll catch you later, paladin.” The vaultie grabbed the edges of her tray and quickly stood, turning on her heel to face the table behind her; and before Danse could even stand up and get to her to stop her from doing what he knew she was about to do, she was already acting.

Nora moved her hands to one end of the tray, twisting her wrists so it was turned sideways and everything upon it was dropped to the ground as her arms pulled back as if she were holding a baseball bat, then sent forward with full force just as she closed the gap with one step so she was closer to the table with the three scribes. The bottom of the tray smacked into Beth’s face – she knew it was Beth because the one who’d been blabbing her mouth had been directly behind her – using her head as the baseball for her bat and breaking the cheap aluminum tray in half from the force, leaving scratch marks along one side of the scribe’s face from the jagged edges caused by the break.

Danse was on his feet now, but he still had a table to get around and was trying to move as quick as he could. The vault dweller dropped the broken tray and lunged forward, then grabbed onto the scribe’s pinned-up hair and shoved her face downward against the metal table one, two, three times before a sickening _crack_ told everyone her nose broke – and then Danse had intervened. Strong arms wrapped around Nora’s midsection from behind, lifting her off the ground and pulling her backward to try and put a distance between her and the scribe – but that was a mistake on his part because Nora didn’t let go of Beth’s hair and, instead, dragged her along.

“Let go of me, Danse!” Nora snarled.

Beth was screaming as she was dragged, having lost her balance and fallen to her knees while her hands gripped her hair to try to relieve some of the pressure Nora was doing by pulling it. Her two friends were there now, attempting to pry Nora’s fingers open, but the vaultie’s grip was like a damn vise – she was holding onto Beth’s hair like she’d have held onto Shaun in the vault if she’d had him. Danse stopped moving so the woman wouldn’t get dragged anymore, but one hand went to her wrist while he kept his other arm wrapped around her middle.

”I’m gonna fuck her shit up and teach her to never even _look_ at him again, let alone fuck him!” she growled.

“Let go, Parker!” the paladin growled in her ear as he squeezed her wrist hard, surely enough to form a bruise. He’d probably feel bad about it later, but it was nothing compared to what Nora was doing to the scribe.

She finally did let go, though, and Danse went to pull back more, but that was the second mistake he made – Nora thrust her right leg forward and sent the toe of her boot straight into Beth’s chin. “Your bra is in the fucking ocean, you dumb bitch! Have fun fishing it out!”

“Damnit, Parker, fucking stop!” Danse yelled; she could feel the deep rumble in her back. He yanked her sideways, facing away from the three scribes now as both of his arms wrapped around her – one around her middle and one around her chest, pinning her arms down as he quickly carried her off. “Someone get Cade! Now!”

“Let go of me,” she growled. “Fucking let go!” 

“You just beat that girl’s face in for no goddamn reason, Nora. Why the hell would I let you go!?” he asked as he carried her, seeming unfazed by her wiggling against him. She wasn’t even paying attention to where they were going because she was just seeing _red._

“She deserved it,” Nora hissed.

“What could she have possibly done to deserve that!?”

“She fucked him in our bed, Danse. I had to throw it all out because it was fucking ruined.” Her voice had lightened from the anger as hurt mixed with in it, but was still mostly rage; and she was breathing heavily and through her nose, each inhale and exhale audibly loud.

Danse paused for a long moment before sighing and resting his forehead against the back of her head – and only then did she realize they’d stopped walking. They were in Arthur’s room now, the door shut as her paladin stood there, still holding her off the ground with her back pressed against his broad chest; but he set her down after a second, hesitant on actually letting go of her, but still doing so.

Nora didn’t turn around but instead stared at the spot where the bed should be but was greeted by only a frame. They hadn’t gotten a new mattress yet, apparently.

“You need to stay in here. You did a lot of damage to that scribe and there are going to be consequences. I’m sure Maxson will be in here soo—”

The door swung open and Arthur charged in, his eyes dark and his face contorted into a scowl; he didn’t even look at Danse before he was in front of Nora, glaring down at her. “Leave, Danse,” he growled.

The paladin hesitated, but left, shutting the door behind him.

══════════════════

Nora’s eyes met his. “Sit down,” he ordered, pointing toward the table and chairs that sat in the middle of the room; but she didn’t move and instead tipped her head up, challenging his authority just like she had earlier in front of Kells and the initiates. While he enjoyed her challenges when they were alone because it often meant exciting sex, this was not one of those times; and while he’d allowed her to get away with it earlier because he figured it might help her get whatever this was out of her system, he couldn’t let her do it now. She’d started a fight and injured a scribe for no apparent reason, and he only knew about it because a squire had run to the observation deck to retrieve him just after the fight ended.

“Sit the fuck down, Parker. I will _not_ tell you a third time. Your defiance does not lead to where you think it leads here.”

Her chin dipped down a little as she thought, her eyes flicking between his while she bit the inside of her lower lip, which he was just barely able to see as the skin slightly moved. But she turned and went to the table; yet, rather than sitting in a chair, she hoisted herself up to sit on the edge of the table itself, her fingers curled around the edge while she watched him.

Arthur began pacing the room then, a hand running through his hair and scratching at his beard as he thought about how to handle the situation. Anger didn’t work with her – and it certainly wouldn’t now. Intimidation didn’t often work with her, either, especially when she was this pissed off.

But he was still raging, and he needed answers.

He came at her, palms planting on the table on either side of her, their faces close as his eyes bore down into hers. “Why would you start a fucking fight with a random scribe in the mess?”

“Because I know she was the one you fucked in our bed.” Her voice was eerily calm, nothing like what he expected it to be after starting a fight with someone. She should still be pumped with adrenaline – what the hell was going on?

But he was taken aback, and he narrowed his eyes while studying her face, then dropped his head for a second, hanging it low before he returned his gaze to her. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly softer. “She doesn’t even know about you, Nora. Why would you take it out on her?”

The vaultie just blinked, cocked her head to the side, and quietly hummed in thought as if she was seriously considering the question – but then a smile slowly spread across her face. “Now she does.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her, unsure what to say or how to handle the situation since she wasn’t acting herself – hell, she wasn’t even acting the way she was last night. Then, she’d been upset and hurt and crying while angry; but now, she was just pure _rage._ And it wasn’t even a normal kind of rage, it was a sadistic kind. It was like she’d run out of fucks to give.

“I let you throw the mattress and all that out because I thought it might help, but I cannot allow you to start fights.”

“Then entertain me,” she said in a low tone.

Arthur’s hand immediately went to her chin, grabbing it and making her lean back just enough to where she depended on his hold to keep her upright as he leaned over her. “I am not in the mood for your games, Parker. If you wanted my attention, then you should have fucking asked.”

“I’m not playing any games, _Maxson._ I’m saying I’m pissed off and I need an outlet, so are you going to give me one or not?”

He thought about it, debating what outlets she could use. He could have Danse train her in hand-to-hand and that would wear her out, plus give her more experience in that combat style; might even train her in a certain type of weapon that she wasn’t as comfortable with to improve her aim and reliability with it. But he had a feeling neither of those options were what she was seeking.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I want you to fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to fuck me so I can feel it. I want it to _hurt.”_

He furrowed his eyebrows again and began to pull away – he couldn’t do this, why would she ask him to do this? – but she reached up and grabbed onto the lapels of his battle coat so he couldn’t go anywhere. Of course, Arthur could easily overpower her, but he allowed her to keep him still as she stared up at him silently, waiting for his answer.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I’m so fucking pissed at you and I want to be reminded why I don’t hate you despite how much you continue to hurt me.”

The Elder felt a constant throbbing in his chest, like his heart was about to implode, as he just stared at her. What the fuck had he done? What the fuck had he done to _her?_ He’d taken an innocent woman from the past who’d lost her family yet still saw hope and the possibility for a bright future and just.. hurt her over and over again; he’d broken her beyond repair. If there was any doubt that he’d done it before – there wasn’t an ounce of doubt now. He wanted her in his life, and he didn’t know why or how to ask her to stay, and so he’d done things that broke her piece by piece until there was nothing left to break. Now, as he looked down at her, he saw only an empty shell. It was hollow and transparent – the soft tissue that had been on the inside had dissolved and the beating heart had burned out and turned to ash.

He allowed her to pull him down into a kiss; their lips crashed together, and she was immediately rough, all teeth and tongue and biting at his lip just to egg him on. She even reached one hand up and grabbed at his hair, tugging on it hard – something she knew he _hated_ – because she wanted to get a rise out of him; she wanted him to react, but he just… didn’t.

She growled in frustration before shoving his coat off his shoulders and it fell to the floor with a dull _thud_ before both their hands went to each other’s clothing. Nora struggled with his, as always, since she never could get the hang of the Brotherhood suits; then again, her hands were shaking, and she was far too eager to push it off that she must have been having trouble concentrating. Arthur took his time to unzip her vault suit, slowly pushing the zipper down before gently slipping his hand under the fabric on one shoulder and sliding it off that way, rubbing his palm against her skin, then doing the same to the other side.

A string of impatient curses was mumbled against his lips as Nora dropped her hands from the top of his jumpsuit and instead went to the groin area, fumbling around with the clip that held the flap shut on his uniform. Arthur lowered his hands and gently took hold of her wrists, leading them to her bra and letting go as he went to remove his uniform for her. It took him no time at all, and by the time she had her bra off and tossed it wherever, he had his uniform down to his thighs and was kicking off his boots; once they were gone, he pushed down his underwear and suit, then kicked them away with his foot.

Nora’s hands were immediately tugging his undershirt off and he lifted his arms to let her, the result being yet another piece of clothing getting tossed onto the ground and his holotags clanking against his chest. From there, Arthur knelt in front of her, taking his time in unlacing her boots to remove them – which he heard frustrated huffs filled with impatience above him because he wasn’t moving fast enough. But when he got her boots off, he stood and helped lift her hips to slide the rest of her suit down along with her underwear, now leaving them both naked.

Their lips met again, and Nora was, once more, rough – biting his lower lip hard enough to sting and possibly even drawing blood as she plunged her tongue into his mouth and grabbed his hair, yanking it. Her free hand wrapped around his cock, squeezing hard enough to make him groan from the pain – because she knew he enjoyed it and it always made him want to return the favor – before she scooted closer to the edge of the table and spread her legs more, inviting him in. He shifted closer and she guided him to where the head of his cock was pressed against her cunt; her warmth being something he hadn’t felt for nearly a week.

The vaultie laid back, legs wrapping around his hips as she rolled them and tried to pull him in closer so he’d have to sink into her; but he hesitated and instead leaned down, placing soft kisses between her breasts just as he slowly began to push in. She gasped from the stretch, but he took it slow, easing himself in by pushing in and pulling out a little at a time – repeating the motion until their hips were flush together despite how her heels were digging into his ass, nonverbally begging him to just shove in the entire time.

One of his hands went to her breast, fingers splayed as he groped while his lips trailed up to her neck with soft licks and kisses to her skin. Nora whined and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from her chest and guiding it up to her hair to encourage him to grab there instead; but he just threaded his fingers through the red locks as he kissed the bruises he’d left on her throat last night before he’d carried her to their bed and ruined whatever intimate moment they were having.

He gave her time to adjust even though she was immediately rolling her hips because she didn’t want to wait; he knew she wanted him to start pounding into her and he knew it was because it would hurt – she wanted the pain. But he wouldn’t give it to her.

They may have enjoyed some amounts of pain when they fucked, but this was not like the other times they had sex.

His forearm was on the table beside her, holding his body up as he slowly began thrusting, not even pulling out all the way when he did. He kept placing gentle kisses to her chest, throat, and shoulders, but she was growing impatient and frustrated with the gentleness he was providing since she wasn’t used to it and she didn’t really want it. Her hands had snaked their way up to his shoulder blades, long nails digging into the scarred flesh and dragging down his back, breaking the skin along the way as she kept trying to egg him on; but the only reaction she got out of him was how his muscles tensed when she was doing it – but he still remained gentle. 

He could control himself. He could control himself for _her._

“Arthur, please,” she whispered, the words whined as she dug her heels into his ass again, begging him to go faster and harder.

But he pulled his lips from her neck and instead gently rested his forehead against hers, both of them closing their eyes. “Shh,” he cooed. The hand that had originally been in her hair slipped down between them, fingers gently rubbing circles on her clit as he kept up his slow thrusting, shifting his angle just a little to try to hit that bundle of nerves buried in her even though he wouldn’t be hitting it very hard or very fast.

But she kept trying even as she was tightening around him; her nails dug into his sides, back, and arms; she kissed him hard and bit his lip, tugging on it; she rolled her hips with his thrusts; she even begged him to fuck her harder, calling him ‘daddy’ and trying to use every type of dirty talk she knew he loved. But he didn’t take the bait and instead remained gentle with her, feeling how she was so close to coming undone despite not wanting to admit it – he could feel her thighs trembling around his hips and her cunt squeezing around his cock.

One of her hands had found the back of his neck, nails imprinting crescent moon shapes into his skin as he felt her tipping over the edge. He gave her what she wanted briefly, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting deep; it wasn’t rough, but it was harder than he was going, and it certainly made her body jerk on the table when their hips met. But it was enough to work – and with an actual sob, she came. Tears streamed down her temples and disappeared into her hair on one side and dripped onto the table on the other. He stopped thrusting and pulled his hand from between their bodies, gently using both of his thumbs to wipe her tears away as he kept their foreheads pressed together.

“Shh, it’s okay, love,” he whispered before shifting his hips back to slip out of her.

She unwrapped her legs from around him, likely expecting him to leave her there to cry alone – and while the fact she might have expected that of him was painful, he couldn’t think about himself now. Gently, he leaned forward and scooped her up into his arms, holding her so their chests were pressed together and coaxing her to cling to him. He carried her over to an empty spot by the wall before sitting on the floor and leaning back against the vertical metal, his knees bent to provide her some stability for her lower back while she kept her arms around his neck and had her feet planted on the floor, her own knees bent at his sides. Arthur kept his arms around her, one wrapped around her back to rub at her side and the other wrapped around to reach up and stroke her hair.

Her face remained buried in the crook between his shoulder and neck as she cried and he found himself kissing her temple and whispering praises in her ear – how good she was, how proud of her he was, how he would never hurt her again, how much she meant to him, and more. Some were words he found difficult to understand let alone difficult to say, but as they sat naked in his room – no, _their_ room – while he cradled her as she cried in his arms because he’d hurt her so fucking bad, Arthur found the only hard part was when he had to let her leave his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found this typo just before I posted the chapter and needed to share:  
> "Danse wasn’t very conversational at the moment and was instead scarfing down his foot like he hadn’t eaten in the past week."


	46. Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Because I know, despite how hard I try not to, I would inevitably keep hurting you. And if you are bound to me in a relationship and, eventually, by marriage, I don’t want you to feel obligated to remain with me if—” he cut himself off, looking off to the side for a moment as he searched for the words, “—if it gets very bad.”
> 
> But it was Nora’s turn to furrow her eyebrows. “Why do you feel it’s appropriate to make these decisions for me?”

Nora didn’t want to get out of bed – and she hadn’t for the past two days. Well, okay, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d gotten out of bed to use the bathroom and shower and eat because she wasn’t about to totally neglect herself – not that Arthur would let her, anyway – but otherwise, she felt entirely drained and just wanted to _sleep._

The night she’d begged Arthur to fuck her hard enough to make it hurt — but instead he’d taken her gently, made her cum, and then hadn’t even bothered to cum himself, only to end up sitting naked on the floor and holding her in his arms as she cried — she’d just felt physically, mentally, and emotionally drained of every ounce of energy she’d once had. She wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed there in that position — where he was leaned back against the wall, his thick thighs spread and knees bent while she sat in his lap, her feet planted on the ground on either side of him, arms over his shoulders, and face buried in his neck — but she knew it was a long while.

Danse had come by to check on them since it was too early to retire for bed and neither had left the room and Arthur hadn’t returned to the observation deck. The Elder had called him in with the warning of their, well, lack of clothing; of course, the paladin had seen them both naked by now so he didn’t seem to care much despite the view he was welcomed with when he opened the door – Nora’s bare back and Arthur’s knees bent and legs spread, all ass and dangly bits.

Hell, Danse was the one who’d found them a new mattress, covers, and pillows, to which he’d taken the time to fix it up for them while they remained on the floor, and had even helped move them to the bed – well, helped move _her_ to the bed. Arthur had been stuck in the same cramped position for who knew how long so he wasn’t able to stand with Nora in his arms and he knew she wasn’t going to move on her own any time soon. So, Danse had just picked her up like she weighed absolutely nothing and carried her to the bed, setting her down gently; and when she was greeted by the hard mattress, scratchy blanket, and rough pillow, she couldn’t help but curl into them like they were old friends.

The two men briefly conversed behind her and the sounds of their voices were comforting as she drifted in and out of sleep. It was a few minutes before the bed dipped, however, and she felt a familiar, overly-warm body wrap around her back and two strong arms pull her close, promising to protect her from the dangers of the Commonwealth just like she protected him from his night terrors.

Even the next morning, she was too exhausted to do anything. Arthur had let her sleep in and came to check on her throughout the day, ensuring she drank enough water and ate solid food before he made her shower, saying it might help her feel better, even taking the time to shower with her and help her wash. She did, but it didn’t, so she went back to sleep.

The second day was better – she wasn’t as physically tired anymore, but she was still emotionally exhausted. She’d woken up at 0600 with Arthur’s alarm but had every intention of going back to sleep to try to pass the day away, part of it in attempt to recharge her emotional state, another part to avoid the inevitable repercussions the Elder was going to dish out for her actions regarding the fight with the scribe.

He’d rolled over and slapped his hand onto the nightstand a few times, the loud _clap, clap, clap_ making her wince before he finally hit his mark, quieting the annoying buzz so the only sounds that filled the room were the soft hum of the Prydwen’s motors and the slight creak of the bed as he rolled back over and pressed himself against her back. A gentle kiss was placed to her shoulder, just like every morning, before he pulled away completely and got off the bed; she listened to his bare feet pad across the metal floor and disappear into the bathroom.

Nora had drifted off somewhere between when she’d listened to him turn on the shower and when he’d somehow snuck his way back into the bed, dripping wet from not even drying himself off before he was hovering over her. Arthur placed soft kisses against her hip, making her begin to stir awake, her eyes slowly opening to peer down at him; and when she turned a little, he began trailing those kisses up her body.

“Mm. What are you doing?” she asked sleepily as one of her hands went down to his forehead, brushing his dripping wet hair back and from his face. Every inch he moved up her body just left her skin wetter since he hadn’t even bothered to dry off – and it was the _worst._ She never understood how people could just not dry all the way off after showers. It was uncomfortable.

“Waking you up for the day,” he said between kisses to her side, using one of his hands to roll her onto her back.

He slotted himself between her legs, pressing his hard cock against the meat of her thigh – she wasn’t sure if that was water or precum he was leaving behind – as he started grinding against her. His mouth was at her chest then and he took one of her nipples between his lips, sucking on it and making her gasp at the feeling. She immediately tried to close her legs but instead just ended up squeezing them around his hips.

“Arthur,” she whined as she pushed his face away from her chest. “I don’t want to have sex.”

He let her nipple pop free from his mouth before he started trailing kisses up her chest and to her throat where he placed kisses along the column. “We don’t have to. There are other things we can do,” he said as he nipped her pulse point.

“No, I mean, I don’t want to do anything sexual with you anymore.”

That was enough to make him stop – specifically at the word _’anymore.’_ The Elder pulled his face away from her throat enough to look at her with furrowed eyebrows, but he didn’t pull his body from hers. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

She sighed. “The other night, you said you cared about me and that I meant a lot to you. Did you mean that?”

“Of course.”

“You also said you wanted to be with me but couldn’t. Did you mean that, as well?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you think you can’t be with me?”

══════════════════

Arthur thought about the question, trying to think of the right words to use; he didn’t often pull punches with anyone unless it came to Nora, and sometimes he didn’t even grant her the mercy of doing so – but he certainly wanted to now. “Several reasons, I suppose,” he admitted but followed it up with another pause, “I suppose I should first explain that the Elders on the Elder Council back at the Citadel have been hounding me to find a suitable wife and have threatened an arranged marriage if I don’t find one soon. They even said they were considering sending profiles of women they thought were qualified for the, ah, position.”

Nora furrowed her eyebrows but remained silent, allowing him to continue.

“If we enter a relationship openly, the Council will become interested in it. They’ll want to interrogate you based on whether or not they approve of your eligibility to become my wife.”

“What else?” she asked, as if that was something so simple.

“They’ll also want to do the same for if you can become the mother of my children.” His eyes watched her carefully for any reaction, but there actually wasn’t one. There was no grimace or recoil, no furrowed or raised eyebrows, nothing – and while that was somewhat reassuring, it also sort of wasn’t.

“Is that all?” 

“Ah, no,” he admitted quietly.

“Please tell me,” she said while she ran her fingers through his beard.

He loved when she did that and it almost made him purr. But he didn’t speak for a minute, allowing his eyes to drop to look at the freckles on her chest; there were so many, some big and some small – he wondered how long it would take to count them. Surely, there were hundreds all over her body since they covered her arms, chest, shoulders, and face. There weren’t many on her legs, however.

“Arthur?” She called him back to her, his eyes flicking up to her questioning gaze.

“Because I know, despite how hard I try not to, I would inevitably keep hurting you. And if you are bound to me in a relationship and, eventually, by marriage, I don’t want you to feel obligated to remain with me if—” he cut himself off, looking off to the side for a moment as he searched for the words, “—if it gets very bad.”

But it was Nora’s turn to furrow her eyebrows. “Why do you feel it’s appropriate to make these decisions for me?”

The Elder opened his mouth as if to speak but then snapped it shut, unknowing of the answer; so, his eyes dropped back to her freckled chest again. One, two, three, four, five—

“Please answer me, baby.”

“I don’t know, Nora,” he said with a sigh, lowering himself onto his forearms. Their bodies were still flush, but his cock had gone soft. “I don’t think I’m worthy of you and I know you can do better – you _deserve_ better. It will be… difficult to be in a relationship with me, especially if we do marry; not just because of my emotional state or whatever you want to call it, but also because of the expectations of the wife of an Elder.”

“But I’m not your wife,” she said simply.

He looked back up at her, confusion washing over his face. “But if you choose to stay with me, eventually you will be.”

“Maybe. But that’s a long time from now, isn’t it?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “… I suppose it is, yes.”

“So, why worry about that when the possibility is so far away? You’re strategic, I know. You like to plan things ten steps ahead so you know what to expect. But when it comes to us… I don’t want that all the time. I want you to just live in the here and now and enjoy what we have.”

His eyes were off to the side again though he nodded his head just slightly. “So, then what are you asking?”

“I want us to stop having sex for a while. I want to make sure our relationship isn’t based solely on sex and that there is something more between us. But I also don’t want us to have sex with other people, either.”

Arthur hummed lightly as if he was considering her words. Sex was important to him; not with regards to intimacy or anything like that, but it was how he communicated with his subs – especially with her – when he was unable to find the right words. To an extent, of course. “So, you want an actual relationship despite everything I’ve said? Despite how much I’ve hurt you and despite my emotional state, or lack thereof?”

Nora hesitated before answering, seeming to think on it. “Yeah, I guess so. I want us to be monogamous, as well as platonic, for a while. And if that means a relationship, then yeah. But we need to communicate more. We have to talk things out and I need you to promise me you’ll try to do that. You also have to try to control your jealousy and anger and stop being so aggressive with me, and I’ll try to control how I egg you on and intentionally push you.”

The Elder went quiet again, thinking it all over. He certainly wanted to be with her, he’d already decided that; he wanted his future to include her in it even though he didn’t really know how to say it or express it. And he never really enjoyed one night stands or sleeping with more than one person at a time, which was why he only ever had one sub at a time, so being monogamous wasn’t difficult for him. But sex was, in fact, important to him. She didn’t say how long they would go without it, either.

But he would try. He would try for _her._

Arthur leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to her lips and felt her hands cup his jaw, threading her fingers into his beard again. Once the kiss was broken, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes staring down into her own. “Alright. I promise. Let’s try it,” he whispered.

══════════════════

He’d let her go back to sleep while he dressed and went to the observation deck to have his meetings, saying he’d be back later to wake her up and they’d need to talk more. She knew what that meant – he was going to speak about her repercussions for everything that happened the other day, and she was dreading that; but a knock on the door was what tore her from her slumber first. Considering only a handful of people would even knock on his door specifically for her, she just ignored it, assuming if they knew that he didn’t respond then they’d figure out he wasn’t there and leave.

But they knocked again.

And again.

And again.

Nora huffed in annoyance. “WHAT!?”

“Uh… special delivery for a Mrs. Charmer? Or is it _Ms._ Charmer?” The voice was vaguely familiar but the fact it was muffled by the metal door made it harder to pinpoint where she knew it from, so she laid there for a minute, eyes glaring up at the ceiling as she thought of what those words even meant— _oh._

“Hold on, I have to get dressed,” she called out. Nora was quick to get out of the bed and find her vault suit and pull it on – well, as quick as possible when just waking up – and she stumbled to the door, opening it. On the other side stood a man clad in a regular orange and grey Brotherhood jumpsuit; black sunglasses covered his eyes and above them was brown hair that was sort of spiked upward. She didn’t recognize his face, however, and instead just stared at him for a minute, even squinting her eyes.

“Woooow, Charmer. Does Elder Maxson know you were naked in his room?” The voice was the only familiar part; it sounded like one of those stereotypical surfer bros she’d heard before the war.

But his words and tone struck a side of her MacCready often struck — and she couldn’t help herself. “It was a surprise, actually. I was planning to seduce him by wearing only bunny ears and skimpy underwear,” she quipped.

“Oh, I see. Well, is there a chance you need someone to appraise the outfit before its intended audience sees it? You know, just to get some feedback. Because I’d be glad to volunteer my time.” Well, that was certainly one way to flirt. He was ballsy. 

“I would say yes, but I already took it off. Maybe if you stumble upon me the _next_ time I try to seduce a powerful man in his own bedroom, I’ll take you up on that offer.” 

Her visitor was grinning now, and she couldn’t help but smirk in return; but when her eyes shifted slightly to the right of his head, his grin immediately faded. Arthur was coming from the mess hall and the _thud, thud, thud_ of his boots became more apparent the closer he got. He was carrying a tray of food in his hands – upon it being two cans of purified water, two mutfruits, and two bowls of something she couldn’t see yet. Either he was coming to eat with her, or he was just _that_ damn hungry.

The man in front of her shifted his hand that was near his stomach, a holotape being presented between his index and middle finger, but he didn’t hold it out. “Desdemona sends her regards,” he said quietly, and Nora straightened her back a bit before moving closer so their right shoulders touched as they still faced one another, her hand quickly grabbing the holotape from his fingers since they were close enough that no one could see it. Her other hand, however, pointed in the direction of the quartermaster. “Proctor Teagan is all the way in the back, past the mess hall and the power armor bay. He has all the gear you’ll need.”

A smile was back on his face – he hadn’t even turned around to look in the direction she was pointing, though. “Appreciate it, boss,” he said quietly; but when he finally did turn around, Arthur was already standing there, and the visitor’s smile only broadened. “Elder Maxson, what a pleasure.”

But Arthur was already suspicious and seemed to know something was wrong, which wasn’t good. The vaultie shifted around the Brotherhood imposter and gently took hold of the aluminum tray in Arthur’s hands. “I’ll take this,” she said quietly, though considering her _last_ interaction near people – aside from Arthur – with aluminum trays, she was surprised he let her go near it. But his focus was on the man in the sunglasses and she could see those sky blue eyes searching for answers.

══════════════════

“I don’t recognize you,” the Elder said.

“Oh, ya know, I just have one of those faces. The kind everyone forgets.”

One eyebrow cocked up. “That makes no sense. Why are you wearing sunglasses in here?”

“Ah… cataracts. Just got my eyes dilated.”

Arthur just slightly tipped his chin up in annoyance and took one step closer; he was only a couple inches taller than Nora’s visitor, but his presence still loomed. “Take them off.”

“My pants!? _Elder Maxson!”_ The imposter looked horrified — his mouth open, brows furrowed, and a hand on his chest to play the part; but this was already old, and he was about to get thrown in the damn brig.

“I don’t care for this game,” the Elder warned, “Take. The sunglasses. Off.”

But before there was any response, a loud _crash_ from inside Arthur’s quarters caught his attention, his eyes diverting to the door that was just barely ajar, Nora having disappeared inside after she took the tray. He looked back to the man in front of him, his lip curled into a snarl. “Don’t move,” Maxson growled, leaving behind an unspoken threat before pushing past the imposter and going into his quarters to check on Nora.

She was on her knees near the table, scooping up food that had fallen from the bowls and onto the floor. When Arthur came in, her eyes were wide when she looked at him and they were filled with panic. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. I didn’t mean to.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, as if she was legitimately scared of what he would do. “I didn’t realize it was so close to the edge. Please don’t be mad.”

The Elder was immediately on his knees beside her, rough hands cupping her face and making her look at him as his flicked back and forth between hers. Why did she sound scared? There had to be something wrong – not in that she looked scared of what he would do because she merely dropped some food on the ground, but because she’d _never had that reaction before._

But he was quiet for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed as he studied her face – and then it hit him. “Damnit, Nora,” he snarled before pushing himself back to his feet and rushing back to the door. When he got there, the man was gone.

Clever girl.

He barked orders to a nearby scribe to call a search of the Prydwen for an intruder, giving out a description, though it was very vague. And once he gave it, he turned back to Nora, slamming the door shut. She was no longer cleaning up the food and instead was just staring at him while on her knees. “Who was he?” Arthur asked, his tone a low growl.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t remember his name and I doubt even if I did, that it’s his real one. But I don’t think who he is matters, anyway.” The vaultie held up a holotape between her index and middle finger. “What matters is they decoded the Courser chip.”

Arthur sighed heavily and moved toward her, reaching out to take the holotape from her hand — but she pulled it back.

“What do you say?” she asked playfully.

But his patience was wearing thin, even with her; his eyes narrowed with warning and he slowly crouched in front of her, balancing on the balls of his feet and coming face-to-face with his vault dweller. He stared at her for a few seconds before holding out his left hand, palm up. “Give it to me,” he ordered.

But she shook her head. “Nope,” she said, still keeping her tone playful. Why didn’t she understand this was not a joke?

His right hand shot out then, roughly grabbing ahold of her chin; she gasped and wrapped her free hand around his wrist. “Give me the fucking holotape and clean up this mess before I punish you for your insubordination, Parker. You’re protecting someone who infiltrated the ship and I will not tolerate it.”

That was all it took for her to put the holotape in the hand that was still waiting with its palm facing up; he took it but didn’t release her chin right away, and instead he leaned in to place a kiss on her lips before finally letting go and standing up. “Good girl,” he praised.

She let out a slow breath before she started cleaning up the mess again. He knew she’d be chewing him out later, probably around bedtime, but he couldn’t deal with it now. She granted him that small mercy. 

══════════════════

Arthur had retrieved more food for them, which they ate in his quarters. She’d asked how his day was going so far aside from her visitor and he told her about his meetings without giving away any sensitive information; he might have trusted her but she knew he would still keep secrets because that was part of the Codex and how he operated, which was fine with her. He also explained how Ingram was working on building the signal interceptor and Nora showed excitement to see it while it was being built; he offered to take her down to the airport tomorrow to see it.

But when it came time that he asked how _she_ was feeling, she told him how she just felt emotionally drained and needed to regain some of that energy back. He suggested mental stimulation, but she said she wanted to get off the ship and go check on her settlements and speak to some of her friends – and that’s when he broke the news that it wouldn’t be happening for at least a week because she had to deal with the repercussions from the fight she started.

“Wait, seriously? You’re going to hold me hostage on here for a _week!?”_

“I am not ’holding you hostage,‘ Nora. Any other soldier who did what you did would have been sent to the brig for a month on top of receiving a much harsher duty than what you’ll be getting for a mere week.”

“What are you making me do?”

Arthur cleared his throat and looked down. “You should first know that I did not assign this punishment specifically because of our relationship. I determined the length while Kells determined the job.”

“Arthur,” she growled; her eyes narrowed out of suspicion. “What. Is. The job.”

He hesitated and it made her start to panic. “You’ll be helping Proctor Teagan.”

“Oh, fuck, come on! Anyone but Teagan, please!”

He raised his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids. “It’s already been decided, Nora. I know you do not get along with him, but he will be just and fair in the assignments he gives you, I am sure of it. And you know if you have any problems with him, you can come to me or Kells.”

The vaultie snorted and slumped back in her chair, crossing her arms over her stomach defensively. “I hate Teagan so much, Arthur. Give me to Ingram or Neriah or Cade or, hell, even Quinlan. Anyone but Teagan.”

The Elder sighed and leaned back in his chair, planting his feet flat on the ground while spreading his legs. “Come here,” he said while patting his thigh. Nora stood and moved over to him, sitting on his lap sideways – not straddling him like usual. He didn’t seem to mind, however, and just wrapped his arm around her to pull her against his chest. “I’m sorry, pet, but I can’t change it. You can always come to me, you know that, right?”

She nodded her head and his fingers gently touched her jaw, turning her face so she had to look at him before he placed another gentle kiss to her lips. “That’s my girl,” he crooned, and she just smiled at the praise, her cheeks tinting pink. “Go ahead and report to him,” he said while patting her hip, “I’ll take care of the trays and bowls. Alright?”

The vaultie sighed and nodded again. “Fine. But if he mysteriously dies in the next week, it won’t be my fault,” she said before stealing one more kiss, then standing and heading for the door.

But he got her attention again. “Nora,” he called, and she turned to look at him.

“Hm?”

“Put a bra on first, please.”

She looked down at her breasts, noticing she definitely did _not_ have a bra on and her nipples were hard and _very_ visible through her suit – and then remembered she hadn’t even bothered to put on underwear before scrambling to answer the door. Whoops.


	47. Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His arms tightened around her waist so she was pulled more against his chest. “You don’t have to wear it, love. I wouldn’t force you to, which is why I put out other options that might be more comfortable. There’s underwear on the sink and shoes against the wall, as well." Another kiss was placed to her shoulder before he pulled away just enough to slide around her body so he was standing in front of her. His hands raised and he cupped her jaw, lips pressing a gentle kiss against hers. “You are beautiful, Nora,” he whispered.
> 
> Fuck, her chest ached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: sexual harassment

“Why don’t you bring me that box over there, sweetheart?” The tone in Teagan’s voice was… different than usual; it was lower, sort of huskier, but still held that dominant edge.

“No, not that one. The one on the floor. Yeah, there you go, honey.” The words were drawn out toward the end, but the connotations weren’t entirely clear since neither Teagan nor Nora were in view just yet. But it was obvious there were undertones that meant _something._

“You do a lot of squats before the war, girlie?” Ah. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by many of the Brotherhood soldiers that Nora had… well, a thicker backside and thighs, and apparently Teagan was among those on the list. But those words were inappropriate to a Brotherhood sister, to a subordinate, and to a _woman_ overall.

“Why are you asking?” Nora’s voice was nervous.

“Just curious. I figured since you’re sleeping your way up the ladder, might as well include me, right? Or do you just go straight for the top?”

Danse cleared his throat as he stepped up to the cage window, taking note how Nora was sort of trapped in the far-right corner of the cage while Teagan was beginning to close in on her. She shifted her gaze to the paladin, however, and Teagan immediately spun around, looking at him, as well.

“Greetings, Paladin Danse. How may I be of service?” the proctor asked as if he hadn’t just gotten caught prowling like a predator after someone who was uninterested. Brown eyes glared at him for a long moment, the silence becoming uncomfortable, before Danse returned his gaze to Nora; she was just staring back at him with a panicked expression – but he jerked his head to the side a bit to signal her to follow him.

“Parker. Elder Maxson wants to see you. Come with me.” He could almost see her body relax with the knowledge she’d be getting away from Teagan after having been under his supervision for the past five days. The vaultie scurried through the cage door and immediately began to follow after Danse – but, of course, he shot one more glare to Teagan before they left.

“What does Arthur want?”

“Nothing. I lied.”

She looked taken aback by his words, as if she’d never seen him lie before; he had, in fact, lied before, but it was just a rare occurrence. “Wait, what?” she asked.

“We did another sweep at Greenetech Genetics and I found this,” he said as he held something out to her, “Thought you might like it.” Nora took the item from his hand, looking it over. It was similar to a bobblehead but didn’t have the actual bobbling head and didn’t look like any of the ones she’d collected – this one was a vault boy holding a Nuka-Cola Quantum.

“Ooh, I’ve never seen one like this before. Thank you, Danse!” she said as she launched herself at him from the side, pulling him into a hug. He gave a sheepish smile before wrapping an arm around her in a return side-hug despite both her arms being wrapped around his middle. “So, where are we going?”

“Airport,” he answered as he pointed to the ladder, urging her to go first. She went into Arthur’s quarters momentarily to leave Danse’s gift on the table before following after him and heading to the airport. She expressed wanting to stop by the observation deck to see the Elder before heading down but Danse urged her to keep following, saying he was busy speaking to Kells about something important – which was believable since he and Kells were, in fact, speaking on the observation deck; and Arthur had his back turned so he couldn’t see her.

So, he took her to the airport.

══════════════════

The signal interceptor had taken a while to build, which was… irritating. Ingram had begun building the bottom base stand the first day they’d received the decoded chip data but beyond that, progress had halted. She said they wanted to have all the parts before they continued building – and the one they were lacking was the biometric scanner, which she had scribes searching for. Needless to say, that just pissed Nora off since they could have _easily_ asked her if one of her settlements had one and she would have checked with Preston, but rather than doing that, they just decided to go out and search for one on their own instead of asking for help.

She hoped that wasn’t Arthur’s idea.

But she helped build some of the signal interceptor despite not having the scanner — apparently Ingram was growing tired of waiting — and Nora was just glad she was out of the quartermaster’s clutches for now; she could only take so many days of unwanted sexual comments and advances before she just socked him in the jaw. And she was too uncomfortable to speak to anyone about it — especially in a male-dominated organization — so she tried to brave it through.

They were almost done with the frame of the control console, however, when it got too dark to finish working, so Ingram told everyone to quit for the night. And by the time she and Danse returned to the Prydwen, they’d missed dinner – but that wasn’t really a big deal since they’d missed plenty of meals before.

Once they’d climbed the ladder to the main deck, however, he stopped her near Arthur’s room, his back to the Elder’s door. “Alright, Parker. I was told to do this, so you can’t protest or get mad at me, alright?”

Nora narrowed her eyes. “Wait, hold on. What were you told to do?” She watched as he reached into one of the pockets on his Brotherhood uniform and pulled out… was that a fucking blindfold? A loud, fake gasp escaped her throat. “Danse, I had no idea you were into _this_ sort of stuff.” But the look he gave her made her smirk. “Okay, okay. Who told you to do this?”

“Who do you think?” he asked blandly, making her purse her lips at how snappy that sounded. “He has something planned, I guess. I don’t know what it is but I’m just following orders, alright? Please don’t make me carry you in there while I’m at it.”

The vaultie rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. Just get it over with.” The blindfold was put on her before he knocked on the door, a sharp _’enter’_ sounding out just like usual. Danse led her inside by having a hand on her upper arm; but he paused, then started leading her to the left – toward the bathroom? She felt the flooring change beneath her boots, and she assumed it went from metal to cheap tile.

The paladin stopped leading her after a moment, having shut the door when they entered, and he took the blindfold off. “Alright. Your orders are clear: you need to shower.”

“What, did he tell you to shower with me, too?”

Danse huffed. “You wish,” he teased. She pursed her lips again because they both knew it was more that _he_ wished, but she chose not to correct him and he was probably glad for that small mercy. “Like I said, I don’t know what’s happening. But I’m sure you’ll be fine. It’s not like more than five women have died in his shower in the past.”

More than fi—wait, what!?

Her eyes grew wide and just as she was about to question what the _fuck_ he was talking about, he snorted. “That was a joke, Parker. Relax. Just take a shower. You smell bad, anyway.” Danse then leaned in and kissed the top of her head — something so affectionate and loving that just made her chest hurt because _why_ did he have to do shit like that!? — before he stepped around her and slipped out of the bathroom silently. 

What. The. Fuck. These goddamn Brotherhood men were really making no sense and beginning to piss her off.

Whatever. Fine. She’d play the fucking game for now.

And no, she didn’t _smell bad._

Dick.

Nora turned the shower on and let the water warm up as she stripped off her clothes – they had definitely gotten dirty while she was working down at the airport _but they still didn’t smell bad because it was just grease, asshole_ – before stepping beneath the lukewarm stream. She let her hair and body get wet, then started using the bland soap the scribes made, at least until she heard the door open. The vaultie paused for a moment, listening as Arthur began to undress, but went back to washing herself.

The shower door opened and the Elder stepped in behind her; strong arms wrapped around her waist and she felt his broad chest press against her back. But when his face was at her shoulder, leaving gentle kisses against her skin – it felt different. The normally bushy beard felt… shorter. Nora immediately turned around to face him, suds covering her body still as she laid her eyes on him – and _holy fuck_ had he really changed his beard. He’d promised to shave it but instead had left it at mostly stubble, allowing her to see the skin beneath and clearly see his jawline, as well as where the large scar on his cheek ended. A wide grin spread across her face and she cupped his jaw with her hands, thumbs running over the coarse hairs.

“You did this for me?” she asked.

“I told you I would.”

“I’m flattered you made yourself look like a twelve-year-old because I wanted to see what you looked like without a beard. Curiosity sated — you do, in fact, look like a twelve-year-old.”

Arthur growled before leaning in and nipping at her jaw. “You sure you want to tease me when you have no idea what I’ve planned for tonight?”

Her grin widened. “Mm… maybe. Well… alright, fine. I’ll give you a break for now,” she replied.

The Elder smirked and pulled her in for a gentle kiss, holding her body tightly against his as he did; Nora wrapped her arms over his shoulders, her tongue flicking against his lower lip and coaxing his own out. She could feel his cock growing hard against her belly though she tried to ignore it despite how wet she was getting from merely kissing him, let alone feeling him getting hard – it made her want to wrap her legs around his hips so he could fuck her against the wall.

When the kiss broke, Arthur rested his forehead against hers and she smiled up at him, licking her lower lip to taste what remained of him there. “We should probably finish showering,” he said quietly.

The vaultie nodded once before turning around, but he pulled her flush against his body again and reached forward to grab the cloth she’d been using to wash herself and instead _he_ began washing her. His lips were kissing her neck and shoulders in different spots as he slowly dragged the cloth along her body, leaving suds in its wake until he felt satisfied he’d covered every part of her. She couldn’t deny how good it felt and how intimate it was to feel him pressed against her, kissing her shoulders and neck while washing her in the shower. 

He helped her rinse off then began washing her hair – but rather than using the shampoo the scribes made that had no scent and made her hair feel gross, he grabbed a green bottle she hadn’t noticed and popped it open. The smell instantly hit her and she opened her eyes, almost gasping at the sight of the shampoo she hadn’t seen in over two hundred years.

“Oh, my god, that smells amazing. Where did you get it!?”

“Mm. Traded for it. I had Danse keep an eye out for any shampoo from your time and this was what he found. I hope it’s alright.”

Nora felt like she was about to fucking _cry._ If there was one thing she missed about the old world – aside from cockroaches being regular sizes, not having to eat molerats, deathclaws not existing, toilet paper, and, oh, a nuclear fucking fallout not having taken place – it was luxury items. Wait, was toilet paper a luxury item?

She turned her head to kiss his cheek but he turned his at just the right time so their lips met, instead. “Any shampoo from my time is infinitely better than what the scribes make. I won’t apologize for saying the truth.”

Arthur just smirked and put some of the shampoo into his hand, closing the cap and setting the bottle back where he’d grabbed it from before lathering the substance into her hair. It wasn’t often he washed her hair for her since he only really helped in the shower when she wasn’t feeling well or sometimes during aftercare – and she really only had about as much hair to wash as he did, maybe a little more – but the feeling of someone scratching against her scalp while rubbing in the shampoo felt _amazing_ and it almost made her moan because it was that fucking good; plus, the shampoo even made her scalp tingle a little.

“I should really give you a blowjob or something for this because, fuck, this is amazing,” she mumbled, coaxing a laugh from deep in his chest that reverberated into her.

He rinsed off his hands and began to rinse the shampoo from her hair; once he was sure the suds were all out, he patted her ass gently. “Come. Let’s get dressed so we can eat.”

“What are we eating?”

“You’ll see.” He patted her ass again, this time a bit harder, before she took the hint and stepped out of the shower, retrieving a towel to dry off and— _what the fuck was that!?_

On the back of the bathroom door was a dress – it was red with spaghetti straps and would have went down to just above her mid-thigh; and there was a fairly large slit up one side that would have cut to her hip. Nora’s face turned almost as red as the damned dress before she noticed that, behind it, was a pair of jeans and a grey shirt; and then behind _that_ was a Brotherhood uniform. Goddamn this man. _Fuck._

She felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind, but she was startled since she’d gotten lost into staring at the clothing; a gentle kiss was placed to her shoulder to comfort her. “You don’t have to wear it; that’s why I put other options. But I thought you might like it.”

“Where did you even get it?” she whispered.

“Mm. Let’s just say Haylen has a unique talent and hobby for making clothing. And I may have bribed her with a few things. And she’s also been aware of us for a few weeks now.”

Ah. That explained why any time she’d seen Haylen – which was really only briefly since the scribe was rarely aboard the Prydwen – she’d been grinning at Nora. Like, weirdly. Even when she’d ask random questions here or there which were also really weird questions.

But the vaultie bit her lower lip, her cheeks never lessening in their red color. “Arthur, I won’t look good in that,” she said quietly.

As comfortable as he made her in her own skin, that dress was showing _way too much_ of it and would be _much too tight_ to look good on her – she knew she’d regret putting it on once she did. And what if it didn’t fit? She’d been through that shit in the past – she’d find something she liked and thought would look good on her, would try it on, it wouldn’t fit or would make her look fatter than she was, and then she’d hate her body a little more.

“Yes, you will. I promise you would look amazing in anything.”

“It’ll show my—” she cut herself off, chewing her lower lip. It’d show her stretch marks on her arms and thighs and those were things she was self-conscious about. He’d seen them all, sure, but she didn’t wear clothing that bared them for a good reason — not to mention the loose skin from weight loss of being in the wasteland as well as the actual fat she still held in those areas. He’d seen it all, though. But she was still worried. 

His arms tightened around her waist so she was pulled more against his chest. “You don’t have to wear it, love. I wouldn’t force you to, which is why I put out other options that might be more comfortable. There’s underwear on the sink and shoes against the wall, as well." Another kiss was placed to her shoulder before he pulled away just enough to slide around her body so he was standing in front of her. His hands raised and he cupped her jaw, lips pressing a gentle kiss against hers. “You are beautiful, Nora,” he whispered.

Fuck, her chest ached.

Arthur pulled away and grabbed one of the towels that were hanging up, then left her alone in the bathroom as he wrapped it around his hips. He was giving her space – and that was nice. She still wasn’t sure on what she’d wear, but that dress was a definite _’hell no.’_

══════════════════

He didn’t take long to get dressed, though rather than wearing his jumpsuit, he’d put on jeans and a shirt – it wasn’t easy to find clothing for him in the wasteland and he didn’t bother Haylen with it since it would take too long; so, jeans and a shirt would do fine. Besides, he was half convinced she wouldn’t wear the dress because she seemed so panicked about it, but the other half of him said she would.

He hoped she would, at least.

There was a gentle knock on the door and when he opened it, two squires stood outside carrying a tray of food each. He gave them a genuine smile – and it definitely scared the two kids because they gave him a look that said _‘what the fuck is he smiling at and oh god is that actually a smile?’_

“Alyssa. Carrie. Please, come in,” he said softly.

The two young girls entered the room and he left the door open as he instructed them where to set the trays – one at the spot where he always sat and one at the spot where Nora always sat. When they set the trays down, they were ready to scurry off and get away from him – which, he couldn’t blame them, because he had the tendency to put on an intimidating face around everyone, even children – but he called them back.

“Girls, come here for a moment.” They returned, glancing at one another questioningly; and once they stood in front of him, he crouched to be at eye-level. “You tell whoever is on duty at the mess hall that I said you could each have two extra snack cakes tonight since you’ve been so helpful. Deal?”

The panic that had been in their faces suddenly disappeared and they both looked at each other before grinning. “Deal,” they echoed.

“And if the mess hall officer gives you any trouble, you tell them to talk to me _tomorrow_ or Knight Parker will be extremely upset that our meal is interrupted, which you both helped cook and deliver. I think that’ll help convince them.”

The squires were beaming and they both nodded their heads. “Thank you, Elder Maxson,” Alyssa said before Carrie repeated it, then both skipped out of the room.

Arthur stood and shut the door behind them but was caught off guard by Nora’s voice coming from the bathroom door.

“You can’t tell me my anger is _that_ bad,” she said playfully.

He turned around then – but froze when he saw she was wearing that red dress and heels, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes slowly look her up and down, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

“You know I can see you staring at me, right, Arthur?”

His gaze snapped back up to her face, noticing her cheeks were pink, and he just slightly smirked before moving to her and wrapping his arms around her waist so their bodies were pulled flush together. “You look incredible. I’m glad you chose to wear it.”

“How did you even figure out what size I needed? I’m not exactly proportionate all over the place, you know; nor am I very skinny, and this dress fits snug _everywhere.”_ Nora adjusted the top of it, her cleavage giving off quite a view that he found himself staring at.

“Haylen’s very good at what she does and you answered a lot of her questions without even realizing why she was asking them.”

Nora went quiet for a moment and her hand raised, fingertip tapping the tip of her nose before she pursed her lips and shot him a playful glare, having realized what he meant. “Oh, Jesus, that’s why she was asking me about cup sizes and jean sizes!? What a sneaky bitch.”

The Elder grinned and leaned down to kiss her, being unable to help himself when he pushed his half-hard cock against her stomach – she looked _incredible_ and there was _a lot_ of cleavage, after all. “Come, let’s eat,” he urged after pulling away from the kiss, leading her over to the table.

══════════════════

When they reached their usual spots, he’d pulled out her chair for her like a gentleman from her time so long ago, waiting for her to sit before helping scoot it back in. She watched him go to his nightstand and grab the gold flip-lighter, then grab a candle she hadn’t realized was sitting on the table; he lit the candle and placed it back in its spot, gently setting the flip-lighter near it.

But it wasn’t the pumpkin one from the nightstand – it was different. Vanilla? One of the candles she’d had in the trunk he’d destroyed.

“I thought you threw all that stuff out,” she said quietly while watching him move to his desk.

He grabbed two glasses and a bottle – but when he returned, she realized they weren’t the usual glasses he used. They were fucking wine glasses. Jesus fucking Christ, this man was actually trying to romance her and he was doing it _successfully._

“No, I did not,” he answered, setting the glasses down and popping open the bottle to pour out some of the red liquid. Oh, god, it’d been _forever_ since she’d had wine – and if Arthur chose his wine like he chose his liquor, then she’d be in fine hands. “All of the items – junk included – is in the top drawer of the cabinet. Well, most of it.”

She stared at him for a long moment, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Why hadn’t he just thrown it out? Most of the stuff was junk and they were at a point where they’d been fighting constantly – he’d thought she’d slept with Danse that morning, so she figured he’d have thrown it all out due to how pissed off he was. But he’d actually kept it in a drawer? Well, aside from the queen piece she’d found that was still on his desk; she was glad he’d kept it there. It just took her a while to find.

Nora cleared her throat before looking down at her food. “What are we eating, anyway?”

“Deathclaw steak with diced tatos and fried silt beans with chopped brahmin.”

“Oh, wow. That… actually sounds really good.” She picked up her utensils before raising her eyes to him. “So, what’s special about tonight? You’ve taken me on one date before and that was down to the beach when you decided you wanted to spend more time with me, so what’s tonight?”

“Ah… nothing, really. I’m just better at communicating through actions than words.”

She took a bite of the fried silt beans and, _fuck, they were so good._ “What are you trying to communicate?”

Those sky blue eyes dropped to his plate so he could see what he was doing while cutting a piece of the deathclaw steak off. He seemed sort of uncertain. “I am… appreciative, I suppose.”

“Of?”

“You. Us.” There was a sigh before he took a bite of the steak as he thought. “I’m not good at this,” he admitted.

“You will be. I know you’re used to including sex with how we communicate and that’s fine to a certain extent, but you still have to talk to me. If you’re angry with something I did, how am I supposed to know what I did wrong and how to fix it if you involve it in our sex life?”

Arthur frowned while staring at his plate, his hands gripping the utensils hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. She could see the cogs turning in his head as he thought it through. “I usually tell you, do I not?”

“Sure, but you also usually tell me not to speak unless spoken to, so we can’t actually talk it out. I understand you have a sort of disconnect with your emotions but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel, it just means you have trouble _understanding_ how you feel and _explaining_ it. But I need you to try and I’ll gladly help if you want me to.”

He fell quiet, sawing off another piece of the steak again and taking a bite while she was also eating her food. She let him think on it, knowing he’d want some time to do so before deciding – he had to plan it all out and go through each strategy and every likely outcome because that’s just how he was with everything in his life. But his answer was much, much sooner than she thought it would be.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

Nora looked over at him and studied his face for a long moment before smiling. He was already taking the last bite of his deathclaw steak before moving on to the rest. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” she said.

Arthur hummed for a moment, his eyes watching her expression before they slowly dropped down to her chest, staring at the cleavage that she was unable to hide. He didn’t answer at first but his eyes eventually went back to his food; she picked up her wine, taking a drink of it.

“I’m extremely horny,” he admitted without shame.

Nora almost choked, some of the wine getting spit back into her glass before she started coughing. He didn’t seem worried, however, and just took a drink from his own glass as he watched her, not even breaking a fucking smile. “It’s not even been a week, Arthur!”

“I’m starting to regret giving you that dress.” Her gaze returned to him and she saw he was staring at her chest again.

“Hm. I might have an idea on how we can fix your problem,” she said. His eyes snapped back up to her. “But I still don’t want to have sex and I don’t want us to touch one another because I know we won’t be able to control ourselves if we do.” She noticed one of his hands was in his lap, but she couldn’t see what he was doing since it was beneath the table – though she had a pretty good idea he was touching himself through his pants. “So, here’s what I propose: I’ll touch myself in front of you if you do the same.” Arthur perked up at that, but she just smirked and glanced down to where his arm disappeared beneath the table. “But it looks like you’re already starting without me.”

══════════════════

He glanced down at what his hand was doing before returning his eyes back to her. “Sit on the table with your dress pulled up,” he ordered.

The vault dweller grinned and stood, then pulled her dress up before she sat on the table’s edge; but when he realized she hadn’t bothered to put on any underwear, he couldn’t help but lick his lips because the sight of her bare only made his cock ache in his jeans.

Standing up, Arthur shifted his chair around and in front of her, keeping enough distance so he wouldn’t be in the way but close enough that she could put her feet on his legs to give him a nice view. He pulled his shirt off — because he knew she enjoyed seeing his torso — and undid his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down to mid-thigh before sitting; and, just as expected, she planted her feet on his thighs, just above his knees. His hand went to his cock, slowly stroking up and down as he watched her slide her fingers along her folds before she dipped her middle and ring fingers into her cunt with a soft moan. Her eyes were watching his hand, too, and he saw her bite her lower lip before she glanced to his face.

“Talk to me?” she whispered.

He could only smirk. “What, you want me to talk dirty now? Don’t just wanna watch?”

Nora whined. “Please, baby?”

“Maybe if you rub your clit for me, I will,” he said.

Nora leaned back on one hand while the other removed her fingers from her cunt and slid them up to her clit, rubbing the engorged nub in circles and making herself gasp.

“Good girl,” he crooned, and her body slightly shivered; he knew she liked being commanded and praised. “You were already dripping for me before you even touched yourself. Do you get wet just from seeing me and imagining what I could do to you?”

“Fuck,” she breathed, her fingers rubbing a bit faster.

“I asked you a question, pet.” His hand stroked a bit faster, as well, trying to time with her fingers.

“Yes, sir,” she breathed.

“Stop,” he ordered, and she did so with a whine. “Put them back in.” Eagerly, Nora shoved her fingers back into her cunt, her hips bucking against her hand when she did. “Add another finger.”

A third finger was added and it coaxed a low moan from her; she knew her body well and knew how to get herself off, but her fingers were a sad substitute for his own and _especially_ for his cock. They didn’t hold the same thickness or length as him — she did have small hands, after all.

”Now, tell me what you imagine.”

“You fucking me from behind,” she whispered as her fingers were moving in and out. “Bending me over your desk and pounding into me. Even over the railing on the – _fuck_ – observation deck. Making me scream so the entire Prydwen knows I’m yours and you’re mine.”

Arthur let a low moan escape from the back of his throat and he ran his thumb over the head of his cock. “You don’t think the bruises I leave all over your body do enough to lay my claim on you?” he asked. Nora licked her lower lip, her eyes still watching his hand stroke his cock while she fucked herself with her fingers. “Answer me, pet.”

“No, sir.”

“Then I bet you think about other ways I could claim you, like me coming inside you, huh?” Her eyes grew wide at his words and she flicked her gaze up to his — that alone told him all he needed to know. “You probably think about me filling you up over and over again until you’re so full of my cum it feels like my cock is still in you, don’t you?” She furrowed her eyebrows as if she were conflicted about the words, but her fingers were moving faster, and she let out a breathy moan. “Yeah? You like that idea, do you?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, not really. At the most, he figured she would give a slight head nod or shake or something, but he didn’t expect what she _actually_ answered with.

Nora let out a deep moan. “God, _fuck._ Yes, daddy. That sounds so fucking good.”

Immediately, Arthur stood, moving so their bodies were close, her feet still on his thighs but her legs just pushed further back — but otherwise they weren’t touching. He planted his free hand on the table, leaning against it as he loomed over her. “Maybe one day I’ll do just that – make you take my thick cock repeatedly until I can’t cum anymore or until you can’t fit any more cum in your pussy.”

Her hips bucked against her hand and he could _hear_ how wet she was; it only made him want to help her get off more. “Arthur,” she breathed; her legs were trembling and the feeling was traveling through her feet and into his thighs. He started speeding his strokes up a bit. “I’m so close, baby,” she moaned.

“Keep going, pet. Be a good girl and cum for your daddy,” he growled.

Nora’s back arched and she moaned loudly, her fingers rapidly fucking her cunt as she tipped over the edge, moaning out his name into the room. When she pulled her hand from between her legs, her body shook beneath him though he could only feel her feet trembling and her toes curling; he stroked himself faster, squeezing his cock a bit and groaning some from the pressure as he leaned forward so his forehead was pressed against hers. But he wanted her – he wanted her _bad._

“Let me fuck you,” he whispered. Despite the way it was said, he never made it an order – and she knew that.

“No,” she replied, her hips still flexing involuntarily, as if aching to feel his cock despite her brain saying otherwise.

“Please, Nora. I need to fuck you so bad.” He was _begging_ \- and Arthur Maxson didn’t fucking _beg;_ but she shook her head again. By now, his breathing was heavy as he huffed like a bighorn from how close he was, having slowed down while he was focused on helping her tip over the edge.

One of her hands went to her breast, squeezing gently to egg him on. “Finish on me, daddy. Mark me with your cum and show everyone who I belong to.” 

══════════════════

It took a few more pumps for Arthur to cum right on the outside of her cunt, his seed spurting over her folds. After taking a few deep breaths to calm his breathing, he reached for her hand – the one that had three fingers buried in her cunt moments ago – and slid those fingers into his mouth, sucking her cum from them. Nora bit her lower lip and watched, a low _’fuck’_ coming from her throat. At the same time, she felt his hand wipe along her pussy, gathering his cum before holding his fingers out to her. She looked at his hand then back to his eyes, keeping her mouth shut in a sort of challenge.

Her fingers slid from his mouth with a _pop_ after a moment. “Open,” he ordered, but she just smirked and shook her head. “Nora,” he warned; but when she still didn’t open her mouth, he reached forward with his free hand and grabbed her chin, forcing her to lie on her back and squeezing her jaw until she opened her mouth; he then shoved his fingers down her throat – gagging her and leaving his cum on her tongue. He didn’t gag her for long, of course, and when he pulled his fingers out, she was coughing with her face slightly red, but after she regained herself, she grinned up at him and he leaned down to kiss her.

“You always test my patience,” the Elder mumbled against her lips.

“It’s fun,” she replied.

His body was leaning over hers with their chests flush together as they kissed, and she could feel his cock was still hard as it pressed against her cunt, the head just barely pushed between her folds and threatening to penetrate her – though she knew he wouldn’t do that and it wasn’t really intentional.

”Thank you for tonight,” she said quietly after the kiss broke.

He rested on his forearms and one hand went to her hair, petting her gently. “I figured you could use a nice break after being around Teagan for five days. You’ll be working with Ingram for the remainder of your punishment. She requested your help this morning, anyway.”

“Oh?” she asked, her head cocked to the side. Not that she wasn’t happy about it, of course, because _fuck yeah_ she was happy about not having to see that creepy fuck anymore – but she was just wondering what had changed. Did he know about what Teagan was doing? Had he overheard like Danse had? Or had Danse told him?

“Mm.” He placed another kiss to her lips, this one a bit slower and deeper – but he never offered her an explanation. That was fine, she wouldn’t push it.

Arthur pulled away, though, and helped her up, as well as helped her get undressed. They found themselves in the bed soon after, his chest pressed against her back and his lips leaving soft kisses to her neck and shoulder as he held her. She was growing tired, as was obvious in her voice, but she had a question she desperately needed to ask.

”Arthur?”

“Mm?”

“You're not the romantic type. Where did you get the idea to do all this?”

He hesitated. “… Ingram.”

There was a pause. “… You went to Ingram for dating advice?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

Another long pause before she snorted. “… That is adorable.”

“Go to sleep, Nora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those of you who have never seen mods of arthur with a short beard: https://imgur.com/a/wfp1YmO
> 
> also, if the elder of the brotherhood of steal if begging to fuck you, then you should feel pretty goddamn powerful
> 
> also also, that mutual masturbation got pretty damn sexy whew
> 
> also also also, does anyone even _like_ teagan? because I don't


	48. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Arthur, I have to go. You know this.”
> 
> “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is split in half and repeats the same scene, first from Nora’s POV and second from Arthur’s POV. It was too short to post them separately.
> 
> CW: I’m not sure I need a content warning but just in case — Nora and Arthur get a bit physical while arguing, like a little more aggressive than usual. It’s nothing they haven’t done already so far (grabbing, pushing, pinning), but this is just a heads up.

“I will _not_ allow you to go,” he snarled, his fist slamming onto the table as he stood from his seat to accentuate his point. “It is too much of a risk and we don’t even know if it will work. We’ll send someone else and _if_ we hear back from them that it _does_ work, _only then_ will you be allowed to go in with fully armed guards.”

He had to be joking. There was no fucking way he really thought this through before he proposed it; no fucking way. “Arthur, do you _actually_ think they’re going to let me come in with guards? That, once they find out the Brotherhood of fucking Steel sent _one_ soldier in, they won’t be keeping watch for a second one – let alone a second one with a fucking power armored escort!? _I’m fucking going.”_

His blue eyes were dark and his chest was heaving with anger at this point; he hadn’t raised his voice still – he never did – but if there was ever a time that he were to raise it, that time would definitely be now. Maxson was unhappy that she wanted to go to the Institute through the signal interceptor they’d built – the one _she’d_ gotten the plans for, the one _she’d_ helped build, the one _she’d_ made contacts to decode the chip for. So how _dare_ he think she wouldn’t finish the rest of this fucking mission by being the one to go through it and find her son.

She was able to see just when that anger boiled over the top, the red-hot rage slipping over the highest hair on his head and pouring over to splash down onto the floor like a waterfall of lava. Arthur stepped around the table and charged at her, a move she was all-too-familiar with when he became physical in an attempt to intimidate and threaten her. He’d never hit her, of course, but he was never above grabbing her and pinning her against the wall or dresser or table – and it always dissolved into sex with him because the man didn’t know how to stop blurring the fucking lines. He just didn’t know how.

But Nora wasn’t having that shit today.

The vault dweller nearly bared her teeth in rage. “Don’t you fucking dare put your hands on me, Arthur Maxson,” she warned – but his hand was already in the air and making the move to grab her jaw like he usually did. She reacted by lifting her arm and pushing his away at the wrist before he reached her, and her other hand went to his chest, palm going flat and shoving him back _hard._ It didn’t send him flying or anything, of course – she was nowhere near that strong and Arthur was a goddamn wall of cinder blocks – but it did slow him down enough to make him catch himself and stop his movements.

The Elder stood there, breathing heavily out of his nose like a huffing brahmin as the rage he never really allowed to release was now seeping out of him, unfiltered and raw. She could tell he didn’t know what to do with it because he didn’t often have this strong of a reaction – like when he grew angry the morning he’d thought she and Danse had slept together, the only thing he could think to do was just _destroy._ Now? Now, he wasn’t destroying anything, but he had his eyes on _her_ – and she was ready to put him in his fucking place.

Nora advanced on him the rest of the way, her hands pushing hard against his chest and forcing him to take half a step back from being caught off guard – normally, she didn’t fight back or wasn’t really ever given the chance to because he was so goddamn _quick._ But this time, her own anger was tipping over and she wasn’t in a compromising position.

”I am so fucking tired of you thinking you have the right to—”

Nevermind.

He grabbed her then, thick fingers wrapping around her jaw and pressing into her cheeks, which prompted her own hands to grab onto his wrist and forearm; he spun them around, quickly moving them to the bed and pushing her onto her back while he straddled and leaned over her, his hand still grasping her face. She glared up at him and let go of his forearm, reaching that hand up to grab at his hair, clenching and pulling to try to get him to release her face.

“Let go, Arthur,” she growled.

But he ignored her demand and instead… he tried to fucking communicate, because of course he did.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he said quietly, lowering himself onto one forearm while his other hand was still holding onto her jaw. The rage in his eyes had lessened just slightly.

But the vulnerability he just released into the air like a fog machine on Halloween made her furrow her eyebrows as she studied his face, taken aback by the mix of emotions he was displaying. “I’ll be back.”

He was quiet for a long moment and she wondered if maybe that was all he intended to say, but then— “Not if you die,” he added, this time even quieter.

Nora deflated and every ounce of anger she felt just disappeared. The bastard had trouble understanding and expressing his emotions, and while that never made these sorts of actions okay, it showed he was fucking scared of her dying and leaving.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

“Arthur,” she whispered, following it up with a sigh. “I have to find Shaun. I have to find my son.”

Sky blue eyes flicked back and forth between her own, undoubtedly searching for a way to make her stay despite how he knew deep down there was nothing that would change her mind and keep her here when she should be the one going through the interceptor. She’d told him time and again she had to find Shaun – finding the son she’d lost was her sole purpose in life, or… well, it _was_ her sole purpose in life, at least. Arthur had changed that, it seemed, but Shaun was still her first priority. He was her child and the only thing that still tied her to the frozen corpse she’d not even had the courage to bury but left behind in Vault 111.

But the Elder didn’t speak. Instead, he released his hold and rested on both forearms, leaning down so his forehead was pressed against hers and his entire upper body was caging hers in. In any other situation, she might have felt like he was suffocating her – she could only breathe him in and nothing else, and any similarity to being stuck in the fucking cryopods again made her panic – but at this point, it was comforting. The vaultie wrapped her arms around his middle as much as she could from the position beneath him and just held him, trying to comfort the man who hadn’t felt this much emotion in a long time and didn’t even know what the fuck to do with it.

“I promise I’ll be back, baby,” she whispered, but he didn’t respond. She didn’t expect him to.

She was leaving him open and bare, unknowing of what to do or how to handle these new sensations even though she promised she’d be back – and they _both_ knew that a promise to return meant nothing in the wasteland. But she’d try her fucking hardest to come back to him. A promise was a promise – she promised Nate she’d find their son, and she was so close to doing it. She wasn’t about to break a promise to Arthur, too.

“Arthur, I have to go. You know this,” she whispered again.

But even as her hands stroked along his back, trying to comfort the grown ass man who’d not had an attachment like this to another person in who knows how long — if ever — he just laid there, his body almost deflated atop hers and his heavy weight pushing her further into the uncomfortable mattress, forcing the springs into her back. But it was fine, because if she could take the weight off him for a while, she would; Nora knew she’d do anything for this man, save leaving her son behind, of course.

“I know.”

══════════════════

Nora was testing his patience with this absurd insistence that _she_ be the one to go through the signal interceptor and infiltrate the Institute, as if he’d ever let her put her life in such blatant danger.

”I will _not_ allow you to go,” he snarled as he slammed his fist onto the wooden table and stood from his chair.

He’d been sitting in the same seat he always was as they’d just finished eating, but she was closer to the bed, so there was still a little bit of distance between them. She’d ensured that distance was there when they began arguing over fifteen minutes ago.

“It is too much of a risk and we don’t even know if it will work. We’ll send someone else and _if_ we hear back from them that it _does_ work, _only then_ will you be allowed to go in with fully armed guards.”

He could almost _feel_ her eyes roll, and he could have sworn they rolled out of her head from how fast they moved.

“Arthur, do you _actually_ think they’re going to let me come in with guards? That, once they find out the Brotherhood of fucking Steel sent _one_ soldier in, they won’t be keeping watch for a second one – let alone a second one with a fucking power armored escort!? _I’m fucking going.”_

The Elder had felt his anger spike the moment the subject was brought up and her persistence in being disobedient and disrespectful was just making it skyrocket ten times faster. He felt his chest beginning to heave as she spoke, and the insurmountable rage eventually reached its peak and boiled over the top.

He charged her.

It was a mistake – this, he knew – but he’d lost control.

This sort of fighting wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, really, but all the other times he’d went after her like this, he’d at least had some sort of control over himself and there was a goal in mind when doing it. When he’d pinned her against the dresser the morning they woke up late, it was to warn her to never turn off the alarm again; and when he’d grabbed her after she’d had a visitor pretending to be a Brotherhood soldier, it was to get information on just who the imposter was and to get the holotape from her. There were plenty of other situations, as well, but they always had a purpose – there was always a goal and reason for doing it.

This time, however, was just pure rage.

But Nora saw what was coming as she’d gotten used to his tactics; he saw her reaction, heard her words of _’don’t you fucking dare put your hands on me, Arthur Maxson,’_ and yet it never actually registered with him. His hand went out anyway, reaching for her face to grab her jaw like he usually did, but she defended herself from his grab before he got to her – her forearm pushed his wrist away and her other hand went palm-flat against his chest, shoving him hard. It made him pause in his step from the sudden force, enough to catch himself and stop walking.

Still, he was filled with pure rage; his breathing was heavy and coming out of his nose as he stared at her, daring her to do something – anything. He didn’t even fucking know what. But it didn’t take long for her own anger to spike again, either, because she soon advanced on _him,_ both hands shoving his chest, catching him off guard and sending him back half a step.

“I am so fucking tired of you thinking you have the right to—”

She’d let her guard down and that was a mistake on her part – she should have known better. He grabbed her then, wrapping his fingers around her jaw hard enough to stop her in her tracks but not hard enough to bruise, and she grabbed his wrist and forearm. Arthur turned them around quickly, leading her to the bed that was only a couple steps away and then pushed her onto it on her back, his thick thighs straddling her hips while his hand remained on her face as he leaned over her.

The vaultie glared up at him and he couldn’t help but think about how, if he had the choice between seeing her pissed off glare or never seeing her face again, he’d choose the pissed off glare every fucking time because even when she was angry she was still beautiful and she was still _alive._ He’d learned long ago that Nora was not a storm nor a tempest, but a hurricane, and her anger meant wild things were to come – and that was fine with him. If he had to face her wrath over and over and over again for the rest of his days, then he would happily accept that as his fate, so long as she would be _there._

Her hand shot up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling it because she knew he hated it and she was doing anything to get him to release her. “Let go, Arthur.” Her order was a growl and even if she sounded like _that_ for the rest of her life, he’d take it.

Arthur swallowed hard, though, and tried to slow his breathing, but he knew the look on his face never changed and he just kept glaring down at her as if he had no control over himself – and really, he didn’t, but he knew there were some things he couldn’t say to her. Some things he couldn’t vocalize because they were unfair.

But this wasn’t one of them. “I don’t want you to leave me.” His body lowered so he was resting on one forearm now, but still held her face in the other hand. He could see her expression change, however, as her eyebrows furrowed, almost like she was caught off guard.

“I’ll be back,” she said quietly.

He went quiet for a moment, studying her face. “Not if you die.” The words were quiet – he didn’t want to say them; it was like some admission of the worst possibility and saying them would make it an actual _real_ possibility, even though _not_ saying them never made it any less real.

If Nora died, the one good thing he had in this world would be gone; the one person who truly cared for him and wanted him to be _better_ for himself and not for the Brotherhood would be gone and would never be coming back, just like Sarah Lyons.

He watched every bit of anger drain from her face – he could recognize her anger because she never hid that emotion from him – and he felt his own drain, too. He knew his anger partially played off hers; the moment she lost her temper was the moment his broke off the leash and skyrocketed through the roof. Tonight, it went past any barrier it had ever reached before, but it hadn’t lasted long – and Nora was the reason it hadn’t. Then again, she was the reason it even got there in the first place, but that part didn’t matter. She made him feel something – she made him feel a lot of fucking things – and she helped him calm down, too. Those were significant acts.

“Arthur,” she sighed, “I have to find Shaun. I have to find my son.”

He knew this. And he wanted to help. He wanted her to find her son and bring him back to the Prydwen, and eventually the Citadel; he wanted to help her raise her little boy like Arthur was his paternal father. He wanted to teach the child the ways of the Brotherhood and bond with him and watch him grow up as if he’d been the one to help give life to him.

But he wasn’t. And the best he could do was help her find the way to her son and hope that once she found him, she’d come back.

He released his hold on her, lowering himself down to both forearms and gently pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes closing. Nora wrapped her arms around his middle, trying to comfort him from the overflowing emotions he didn’t fully understand and certainly didn’t want, but he knew that his chest _ached_ and he was fucking _tired of it._

“I promise I’ll be back, baby,” she whispered.

And, _fuck,_ was he worried she wouldn’t come back. Assuming she survived the interceptor, once she found her son, her mission would be complete – she could finally live happy and have part of her family back together; she didn’t need Arthur anymore to keep playing house and to pretend like she wanted a relationship just to fill the void that’d been left wide open from the death of her husband and the loss of her son. He’d become incompatible with her future once her son was back in her life.

But he wanted her to be happy.

She started rubbing up and down his back and, in some strange way, it was slightly comforting, but the worry of her never returning still dwindled in his mind like a trick candle that never blew out; no matter how many times she tried to reassure him she’d come back no matter what, the flame returned over and over again. 

“Arthur, I have to go. You know this.”

There was something Sarah Lyons told him long ago – it was about the Greek philosopher Plato, how in his dialogue _The Symposium,_ a story about soulmates was presented, explaining how humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces. The gods felt threatened by the strength of the humans and, rather than striking them down with lightning as they had the Titans, they instead split the humans in half – damning them to be alone with the navel as the only remnant of their original form despite the constant longing for their other half. The other half of their soul. And if one soulmate found the other, they’d felt unified and found no greater joy in life.

Arthur didn’t believe in a god; he’d found no use for one. If there truly was some higher being of the universe, then it either meant the world had been completely abandoned and left in utter chaos and destruction while its creator sat back and watched it all fall apart without a care, or the creator had decided to act like a child with a magnifying glass on an anthill – only the anthill was the entire planet and the sun’s beams that shone through the magnifying glass was hundreds of nuclear bombs.

But if Greek gods were real, and if it was true that they had created humans in the way _The Symposium_ explained, then Arthur knew his other half was stuck beneath him, holding his weight and stroking his back as he tried not to beg her to stay even though he knew he could never stop her – and he wouldn’t, in the end.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Arthur’s actions border on domestic violence (hence the warning in the notes), I think we can all agree on that. That said, should I put a domestic violence tag up? If you’ve read this far, you’ve seen how physical he gets and how far he takes it. I try to tag as accurate as I can and that’s a fairly significant tag that I may need to include. So, thoughts?


	49. Shaun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora felt like she was flying – it was such a strange sensation. She couldn’t really _feel_ anything, per se, but it was still _something_ that was different that made her feel – or at least think – she was flying, and not in the same sense of when she was in a vertibird. Being in ‘birds always made her stomach flip upside down no matter how many times she rode them; but everything now felt light and airy like she’d expect it to if she had wings and could fly over the Commonwealth like an _actual_ bird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, most of my chapters are very dialogue-heavy and this time I wanted to try something new. Let me know what you think!
> 
> CW: mentions of abortion and suicidal thoughts

No one knew if the signal interceptor would work; hell, no one knew if she would even survive if it _did_ work, let alone make it to her destination. But she knew she had to try – she had to find her son; she’d promised Nate she would get their baby back and she intended to keep her word.

 _I’ll find who did this and I’ll get Shaun back. I promise,_ she’d whispered to her late husband before she’d left his frozen corpse behind in Vault 111.

Nora was terrified of not making it. If things didn’t work out and she ended up dying, who would search for her son? Who would take care of him once he was found? Would Arthur take him in and love him as his own? Her boy was already ten years old and Arthur was only twenty – was he even ready for a child, let alone a preteen? She knew the Brotherhood was pushing him to procreate already but he was just so _young,_ how could he handle taking care of a ten-year-old alone if something happened to her? Or would he seek out MacCready, the twenty-two-year-old who already had a son, and ask if _he_ could take Shaun? Or maybe even Preston? No, the Brotherhood would surely want him as a squire to turn into another soldier. 

She had to make it. She wouldn’t let that happen. 

The night before she went to the Institute, they’d laid in bed, though it was a different position than usual. Normally, he’d curl himself around her back to hold her tightly to his chest, but she’d felt like she was suffocating – she needed more open space than what he was giving her. They ended up adjusting to where he laid on his back and she laid atop him, her legs on either side of his hips and her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Only then could she breathe; she didn’t feel stuck. And she could hear his heartbeat – he was real, he was alive, and he was there with her.

But she’d described Shaun to him for the first time, always having avoided it before. She described the features of the ten-year-old little boy who was in Kellogg’s memories, the man who kidnapped him and then tried to play fucking house like he was raising his own son. The Elder committed the description to memory and promised that he’d help find her little boy no matter what, but that _she’d_ be there with him, too. He never entertained the idea she wouldn’t make it and part of her was glad about that, but the other part resented him for it because he wouldn’t even consider the possibility that she might die and not live to see her son again, nor come back to sleep in his arms.

And still, he promised and gave her hope. _We’ll find him together, don’t worry. I promise you._ Nora wanted to believe him.

Still, she fell asleep much easier.

When she was ready to step on the platform of the interceptor the next morning, there was no hesitation when he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against his chest, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her head up so he could kiss her passionately. It was a kiss that said a million sentences, anywhere from _’I’ll miss you’_ to _’please come back safely.’_ And even as lancers and knights and scribes – including Beth, that bitch – and initiates and even Lancer-Captain fucking Kells stared – or, rather, _scowled_ – as the Elder held her in the kiss, neither of them cared. Instead, Arthur just held her closely, the hand on her chin moving to cup her jaw; and once the kiss broke, he gently rested his forehead against hers in an intimate action they’d come to share while he whispered sweet words to her that no one else was allowed to hear.

And she cried, because of course she did. Nora was afraid she’d never come back to him – afraid she’d never get to see his beautiful fucking face again. 

Hell, she was afraid she’d never get to hug Danse and feel like it was such an awkward thing for him to do because he was never sure how to properly hug someone; she was terrified of never getting to help MacCready get back to his son, or making sure Cait would stay clean a little longer, or even ensuring Preston became the General of the Minutemen. And what about Codsworth? The Mister Handy had stuck around her house for over two hundred years because he didn’t know what else to do – what would happen to him if she’d died in the interceptor? And she worried about Dogmeat, too, though the vaultie knew the German Shepherd would find comfort in Mama Murphy, but hopefully no one would feed the old crone’s chem habit and end up killing her.

She’d made one last bet with Danse, though, if not just to make the paladin smile. If she came back, he had to wear Dogmeat’s goggles for a whole week – and if she didn’t… well, he was free of the goggles, at least.

 _Alright, soldier. You got yourself a deal,_ he’d said, and she could only smile sadly at him.

Arthur had helped her up onto the platform before joining everyone else at a safe distance. She’d already felt anxious about the entire situation, which was expected, but when the blue lightning started to flash around her, she felt the panic rapidly rising from the pit of her stomach and up her throat. Her eyes were on the Elder and she could see the worry written on his face – it only made her panic worse.

Nora’s lips parted as her breathing became heavier and faster and it only took a matter of seconds for her to begin hyperventilating, tears forming in her eyes and threatening to pour over the bottom lids. While he probably didn’t hear it, he certainly saw it and stepped forward, but Danse had said something to make him stop. It didn’t work for long, however, because he took another step and the paladin grabbed his arm; if anyone else had done such a thing, they would have been struck, surely.

_Arthur._

She only realized she’d screamed his name in fear rather than merely thinking it when Danse grabbed the Elder with one arm around his neck and the other around his arms and midsection to keep him from running to her – but then it all went black.

Nora felt like she was flying – it was such a strange sensation. She couldn’t really _feel_ anything, per se, but it was still _something_ that was different that made her feel – or at least think – she was flying, and not in the same sense of when she was in a vertibird. Being in ‘birds always made her stomach flip upside down no matter how many times she rode them; but everything now felt light and airy like she’d expect it to if she had wings and could fly over the Commonwealth like an _actual_ bird.

But it only lasted a second before everything came back and in a flash of light, her feet were on the ground. She toppled over, landing on her hands and knees just like she did when she’d stumbled out of her cryopod after being frozen for two hundred ten years. A gasp filled her lungs with air and she was almost surprised she didn’t feel like there was water choking her, but when she looked up and didn’t see another cryopod, but instead realized she was in a small room with an open doorway just ahead, she knew she’d reached her mark. Or, at least, a destination she’d never been before.

Her mind was frazzled but she’d snuck around the first room, trying to find her way without being caught only to have someone speak directly to her over the intercom, knowing she’d arrived. He called himself ‘Father,’ which was just a stupid fucking name if anyone asked her. No one did, but she told him anyway, whether he could hear her or not.

Nora took the elevator just because the nice man on the intercom decided she deserved access – but also because it was really the only way she _could_ go, anyway. And it only allowed her to travel directly to one other floor.

But that’s when she saw him.

Her beautiful baby boy.

He wasn’t a baby anymore, and she knew that, but he was still _her_ baby, and he was _there._ He was _alive._ She approached the tiny little cell he was kept in and put her hand on the glass, her eyes wide and already forming tears; but he stared at her in confusion and fear washed over his face as he called for the Father.

 _I don’t know you, go away!_ he’d yelled, and that sentence hurt worse than any stab or bullet wound ever could. She’d tried to calm him, she really did, but he didn’t recognize her – not that she could blame him. He hadn’t met her before; he was stolen from her arms when he was just an infant. He never—

The man who’d entered the room caught her attention and her heart sank in her chest. Almost immediately, she knew something was off – he looked familiar. _Too_ familiar. Just like her little boy who was now standing still and slumped over after he’d said some weird code aloud. Nora didn’t know how, but she fucking knew. 

_It’s good to finally meet you after all this time. It’s me. I am Shaun. I am your son,_ he’d said, some sort of sadness in his voice that was almost an exact replica of a human emotion but she’d heard more emotion from Nick fucking Valentine. The man in front of her was a fucking lie.

But still, she knew it was him – and, god, he looked just like his father, even when he was so goddamn old and wrinkly with his pale skin. He looked _exactly_ like Nate. Those hazel eyes that were more green than brown and the aquiline nose that was the same exact shape as her late husband’s. Fuck, he was almost a replica – the only feature he’d even gotten from her were the freckles that were splashed over his nose and cheeks.

He explained how he created the little synth boy as a _test_ – as a way to play around with the mechanics of what he could do with his own genes; and what did he do? He’d created himself as a fucking ten-year-old boy. And then he’d lured her in and strung her along on some chase that meant nothing other than the fact she’d do anything she could to find her missing son.

It was a game to him. A fucking game. Nothing was as it seemed and she was led around like a goddamn lab rat in a maze to see if she could make it through to the end; to test her strength or her will or some other stupid concept that this world had engrained into her little boy’s—no, he wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was a grown fucking man more than twice her age and he was a fucking _monster._

What had she done?

What the fuck had she created?

She’d given birth to the fucking devil of the Commonwealth; the antichrist of postwar Boston that’d been wreaking havoc for the last however many decades since he’d become the Director of the fucking Institute.

She’d done this. Her. Nora fucking Parker.

She should have gotten that abortion when she found out she was pregnant 211 years ago.

No, that wasn’t fair. Her desire for an abortion was only momentary at the time and because she was terrified of becoming a mother and the fact she never even _wanted_ kids to begin with. Her and Nate had agreed on never having children – they were completely satisfied without them. But then she’d accidentally gotten knocked up when they fucked in the park one night, and when they went over their options, they decided they’d just keep the baby. They’d give it a try.

The vaultie was constantly told she’d be a great mother and that she had nothing to worry about; she’d prepared herself and read all the stupid baby books and bought all the necessities – a crib and changing station and baby bath and diapers and all that other baby shit she never even knew was necessary nor ever thought of before. And it was all on a whim. They kept him – even after talking about their options and seriously considering abortion – on a whim.

Shit, she and Nate did _a lot_ of things on a whim – like getting married. Then again, they only married because it was practical; they’d been dating since she was eighteen and he was nineteen. And for financial reasons, marrying just seemed like the smart thing to do, especially when she got pregnant. So, they went to the courthouse, signed the documents, and ta-da, she was married to the love of her life while four months pregnant; no ceremony, nothing.

But now all she could think about was how she should have aborted. If she had, then how many innocent lives would have been saved? It was sort of like wishing Hitler’s parents had aborted, right? No, that wasn’t a fair nor accurate comparison. But how many people would look at her _exactly_ like people from the past looked at Hitler’s mother? Or, the memory of his mother, at least? 

_Maybe if you’d just aborted, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Didn’t have access? Use a fucking coat hanger. Don’t be a coward. You would have saved a lot of lives if you’d just gotten rid of it._

And how many people would end up wishing she would have just killed herself before giving birth to Shaun or letting him get past the first trimester? She couldn’t blame them – she was the one who brought him into the world, the one who signed off on taking him into the vault, the one who let him get taken away by the fucking Institute and turned into whatever he was now.

This was her fault. She was the reason Nate was dead and she was the reason her son was kidnapped, brainwashed, and turned into a fucking monster.

But he was here. He was alive. And she promised she’d look around – she promised she’d _try._ And try, she would – if not for him, then for Nate, because she owed her late husband that much. Their little boy was dead and gone; he didn’t exist anymore. But the man who used his name and called her ‘Mother’ like he’d had such a strong bond with her his entire life, like they’d been so close as true mother and child, like he hadn’t had decades to unfreeze her from the fucking vault yet chose not to until recently, was begging her to try.

And she would.

So, Nora did her part. She met with the leaders of each division or whatever the fuck they were called. She smiled and played nice and made friends even though she actually wanted to scream and cry and tear her hair out. Some were nice, others were complete assholes, and the rest were just sort of in between; but after she’d done the job of going around and introducing herself, she was called back up to see her son.

She wanted to leave – but she didn’t. She couldn’t, because, at the same time, she _didn’t_ want to leave. It wasn’t that Shaun wouldn’t let her because he’d said she was free to come and go when she pleased, but she just couldn’t convince herself to leave her son yet again – not when he was right here in front of her, even if he was fifty years older than she initially thought.

And so, she sat with him and talked – he asked about Nate; about prewar Boston; about baseball and what being a lawyer was like and what the hell professional wrestling was because Nate had some strange interests. And Nora explained everything as much as she could.

 _What about the Elder of the Brotherhood, Mother?_ he’d asked. She assumed he’d known about Arthur. If he was keeping tabs on her progress throughout the Commonwealth in other aspects, then why wouldn’t he know about her relationship? But she told him most of what he wanted to know – how she felt about Arthur, how it started, where they were at now, whether she wanted it to continue.

He asked if she wanted children with him but she didn’t give him that answer because she didn’t know. 

Before she’d finally met her son – her _adult_ son – for the first time, she’d never found herself fondling Nate’s wedding ring as it sat on her finger, just below her own ring. She’d never really touched it or spun it around or anything, other than having to swap the two so her ring was above his since it kept sliding off because her late husband had big ass fingers. But seeing her son in front of her? Hearing his voice and answering all these questions? It was a painful reminder that her husband was shot in the fucking head and her infant was stolen from his arms, only to be turned into this monster who was destroying the Commonwealth and showing a childhood jealousy of a widowed parent beginning a new relationship.

Nora stuck around for a week, getting to know the son she’d lost oh so long ago and even going out on missions with some of his coursers or whatever the hell they were called. She didn’t put herself in any real danger and she wasn’t about to risk any lives of people from the other factions, either, so if it came to that point, she would duck out and pretend not to be there. But she also knew Shaun wouldn’t let her be at risk, so he must have trusted his synth’s abilities enough to keep her safe.

When the week was up, she knew she had to leave; and it was almost like _he_ knew she was ready to leave, too, and so he dropped two fucking bombs on her goddamn face.

One, he was dying.

Because of course he was fucking dying. Why the fuck wouldn’t he be dying just when she finally got him back, even if he wasn’t who – or _what_ – she thought he’d be? Maybe like a decent fucking person or something along those lines.

The second bomb was his plan for her to take his place – to be his heir as Director of the Institute, no matter how backwards and fucked up that was. No matter how much she’d voiced her opposition to his tactics and ideas.

And she almost socked him in the face.

_She almost punched her son in the fucking face._

Would that be child abuse if he was older than her now?

Nora had to stop herself by clenching and unclenching her fists and taking deep breaths as he stared her down – yeah, he got his father’s height, too, almost exactly six feet tall – and he waited for her answer. But she never gave him one. Instead, she just shook her head and changed the subject; he seemed fine with it then, saying she could take her time to decide, and she’d told him she needed to go back. Had shit to do. Important shit to get done. Things and stuff.

 _Like what,_ he’d asked, all skeptical-like.

 _Like burying your fucking father,_ she’d snapped back.

Why hadn’t she buried him yet? Good fucking question, Shaun. Maybe because Nate weighed over two hundred pounds and Nora was only five-feet two-inches and wasn’t about to drag his big ass out of the back of the vault freezer. _Why didn’t **you** go bury him?_

Nora was irritated and had to calm herself down. Apologized. _Sorry, Shaun, I’m just trying to cope with everything,_ she’d said. It was a lot to take in and he knew that. And he let her go.

She teleported right back to Sanctuary, standing on the wooden bridge.

Fuck.


	50. Nate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I brought someone here to help me bury you. I know you always said you didn’t want to be buried but that’s kinda the only option I have here, so if your ghost-self wants to yell at me, you go right ahead and do that. But you never believed ghosts were real, so I think I win on that front, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: thoughts of suicide and slight mentions of past suicide attempts

No one had heard from Nora in over a week — not the Brotherhood nor the Minutemen nor her companions in the various locations they remained. There had been claims of sightings here and there — some redheaded vault dweller working alongside a courser, but they were mostly just rumors that were passed from person to person before they finally made it back to him, so he was hesitant on actually believing them. His vault dweller was not a ghost who eluded her allies to work with the enemy — that wasn’t her.

Hopefully.

But just when he was beginning to feel like he’d never see her again, that she’d either died from the interceptor or was killed by the Institute or — _fuck_ — had actually _started working for them,_ a radio signal had reached the Prydwen. It called for them; specifically, it called for Arthur — like a siren called for a sailor in the night. 

Kells had come to retrieve him from his quarters but the lancer-captain had to invite himself in since there was no answer to his knock on the bulkhead – only to find Arthur was in the shower, head submerged beneath the stream of water, which meant he didn’t hear a damn thing. But when the Elder suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, he nearly had a heart attack and was about to snap Kells’ neck. Arthur grabbed the older man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, shoving the front of the lancer-captain’s body against the cheap tile of the shower wall while his other forearm was pressed against Kells’ shoulder blades, holding him still. 

Defending himself from unknown threats was an instinct he’d had ingrained into his mind from a very young age, but reacting _this_ way – immediately becoming aggressive with anyone who snuck up on or startled him – was becoming more and more common and began around the third day after Nora left. He was jumpy, irritated, moody, and hadn’t slept or had barely slept at all. The night terrors had started back up just like they always did when she wasn’t there to sleep with him, and so he drank and drank and drank until he passed out or until someone took the liquor away when he was too drunk to do anything about it.

And it had only been a week.

But maybe Kells understood his fight, because the moment Arthur realized he was essentially pinning his second-in-command between the shower wall and his own nude body, he released him, and the lancer-captain didn’t even seem angry despite how he was now fairly wet from the stream of water.

“Apologies, Kells,” Arthur muttered as he stepped aside.

“No apologies necessary, sir,” Kells said while rubbing his neck, “I’m the one who snuck up on you.” He cleared his throat before stepping out and away from the shower, giving the Elder his privacy back but still remaining in the bathroom. “Elder, the reason I came in here is because Knight Parker is on the radio aski—”

Privacy didn’t matter anymore – Arthur was out of the shower almost immediately, throwing on the clean clothes he’d set out without even bothering to dry off. He could almost hear Nora scolding him for it, too – _’That is the weirdest thing ever, Arthur. Why wouldn’t you dry off all the way? It’s the worst and even_ looking _at you when you do it makes me uncomfortable! They make towels for a reason!’_

The two rushed back to the bridge where the radio was located, and Arthur was quick to take the headset to speak to her, clearly eager to do so, much to Kells’ disapproval. 

“Parker?” 

“Hey, sexy.”

Her voice was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard, like honey and sugar; and he couldn’t even make himself care that she’d called him ‘sexy’ in front of Kells and the rest of the lancers. It wasn’t like they hadn’t shown one another affection in front of so many people before she left, anyway. But he also knew she was doing it specifically _because_ she knew there were other people listening in and she thought it was hilarious. That was always Nora.

“You’re alive,” he said with a relieved sigh. “We haven’t heard from you for a week, we didn’t know what happened and weren’t sure what to expect.”

“Yeah, I’m alive. Did you miss me?”

Arthur shook his head and nearly rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight smile that unevenly curved his lips. “What’s your location? I’ll send a vertibird to pick you up.”

“Mm. Quick question and then I’ll tell you.”

“Go on.”

“What are you wearing right now?”

His face flushed. “Parker—” he began, but what was he even supposed to say to that? He didn’t need to look at anyone around him to know they all had wide eyes – including and especially Kells. They could hear her through their headsets just as easily as he could through his.

“Are you wearing that tight jumpsuit? The one that makes your ass look really nice and _especially_ shows when you have a—”

_**”Nora.”** _

“Okay, okay. Geez. Sorry.”

Arthur’s face was tato red – he could feel it because his entire body was just _burning;_ no one else ever had that effect on him. And he suddenly became acutely aware he hadn’t grabbed his battle coat and was leaned forward with his hands on one of the consoles as he spoke into the microphone of his headset while all the lancers were standing behind him. With his ass jutted out. In the jumpsuit that apparently made his ass look 'really nice.'

Goddamn this woman. 

He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “What is your location?” he asked again.

“Sanctuary. But I need you to come here. And bring a change of clothes.”

“I don’t have time for games, Parker. What’s going on?”

“I need help with something. Please, Arthur.”

“Help with what?”

Nora went quiet for nearly half a minute and the Elder thought they'd lost the signal or something, but immediately regretted asking once she answered him. He should have known something was wrong when she greeted him with humor before asking for his help - he learned she used humor as a coping mechanism, and it meant she must have been trying to ease him into what she was requesting his help for.

“I need help burying my husband,” she finally said.

══════════════════

Arthur left almost immediately – having changed into some jeans and a t-shirt, as well as packing two sets of clean clothes since he wasn’t sure how long she intended for them to be there; but he knew he’d stay for as long as she needed him to. Kells tried to get him to remain aboard the ship but that fight was doomed to fail from the start because if there was one thing Kells had learned about Arthur and Nora’s relationship by now, it was that the vaultie had him wrapped around her finger; he’d do anything for her. Kells might have chalked it up to puppy love or whatever else, but the fact still remained that Arthur would part the seas and the skies if Nora asked him to.

Needless to say, he didn’t try to convince the Elder to stay aboard the Prydwen for long, and instead moved to trying to get him to bring Danse along, but that wasn’t necessary, either. The last time he’d been in Sanctuary, it was heavily fortified, well-guarded, and was probably the largest – or one of the largest – settlements she had, so there was really no room for any enemies to break their way in, at least not easily.

So, he went alone, carrying Final Judgment and his bag and trying to sit patiently in the longest vertibird ride of his life.

As soon as the ‘bird touched down in Sanctuary Hills, he’d almost bolted from it to find his vault dweller, but instead waved off the lancer after grabbing his Gatling laser and bag and beginning down the road at a quick but steady pace. The settlement was quiet for a place that held over twenty people – there was some movement inside the houses and a few pairs of eyes peeked out through broken windows, but other than that, there wasn’t much of anything. Arthur partially wondered if everyone had scattered like radstags and raddoes because he’d come by vertibird, and then wondered if that was something Nora had told them to do before she’d become close with the Brotherhood – or if it was _after_ she’d become close with _him._

No matter. He needed to find her.

Her house was easy to spot – aside from remembering which of the nearly-ruined buildings she’d had him and Danse standing outside of while she went in to change clothes the last time he was here, there was also a prewar mailbox sitting out front. It was painted black with white lettering pasted on it horizontally, though the last two letters were missing and instead the box just read ‘ **PARK**.’

As he approached, he took slow, deep breaths, trying to prepare himself for what he would walk into when he entered her home. He knew she would be upset, but he didn’t know exactly how upset she would be at the moment – for all he knew, she would be trying to use humor when he walked in. Or maybe she’d been crying so much lately that she didn’t have the ability to cry anymore.

But it didn’t matter how much he tried to ready himself because absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the redheaded woman who collapsed on the floor of her home into a crying mess the moment he walked through the door. Arthur immediately dropped his bag and Gatling laser and fell to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her to cradle her against his chest. One hand slid up to pet the strawberry-blonde locks of hair that fell down onto one side of her head in an attempt to help calm her down, though he knew nothing would work at this point - she was too upset. And he couldn't blame her.

“Shh. It’s okay, love,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Nora was trembling against him as she sobbed in his arms, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d cradled her or whispered calming words to her or placed gentle kisses on her forehead and temple and ear and hair, but by the time she’d actually calmed down and was just sniffling with a few hiccupping breaths, he’d managed to shift them around so he was leaned against the back of a nearby couch and she was sitting sideways between his legs, her own draped over his bent knee.

He slid a hand up to the side of her face, fingers splaying along the shaved side of her head so his palm was partially against her cheek and ear, almost cradling her face like he would something so delicate and fragile - and wasn't that what she was? Delicate and fragile? Perhaps not all the time, but in this particular moment, she was. At least to him.

“How can I help?” he asked quietly. He wanted to help her - he _needed_ to help her. And she needed him.

“I need to bury him," she whispered.

Arthur almost didn’t hear her, but when he was certain about what she’d said, his chest hurt. She’d already told him what she wanted him here for - she needed help burying her late husband - but it still didn’t hurt any less, and he wasn’t even sure why it hurt at all. He wasn’t jealous of the man, he knew that; hell, the guy was dead and gone, so what was there to even be jealous of? A corpse held no ground over him except when it came to loving memories Nora once shared with him. But maybe the words hurt because _she_ was hurting. 

Perhaps Arthur Maxson did have some empathy after all.

“Alright, love. Let’s go bury him.”

It wasn’t hard to find a shovel – Sturges seemed to have anything and everything and the man was extremely handy when it came to tools. He’d mentioned meeting Danse before and Arthur recalled Nora saying his name when they were here for the mission however long ago – and now, seeing the guy with the southern drawl, it made much more sense why his paladin told her not to give him overalls when she went to find them clothes.

What didn't make sense, however, was how she claimed there were no clothes that fit Arthur because, according to her, Maxson had a 'big ass' even though Sturges very clearly had a similar build. She definitely did it on purpose - he'd have to bring it up one day. But not now.

The vaultie had tried to grab two shovels but Arthur convinced her they only needed one, saying he’d handle everything and that she didn’t need to worry herself. He expected her to fight with him about it, maybe saying she needed to help bury Nate, but it was actually fairly easy to convince her, which he found quite surprising. She must have been too exhausted to fight if she gave in that easily.

He followed her around for a while, shovel over his shoulder and his battle coat draped over hers as she searched for a spot to bury her dead husband. She’d found a few that looked promising but ended up not being so – between a bundle of trees but the roots were too thick; by some hubflower bushes but those always attracted bloatflies; near the stream by the small bridge but if it rained, the grave might get uncovered on the slope – before she settled on burying him at the top of the hill, overlooking their prewar home. It was a nice spot, he had to admit. The view was great, and it was close enough that she could visit him whenever she wanted when she was in Sanctuary.

When they found a spot of soft dirt that allowed him to dig deep enough, he dug a hole that would let her husband rest undisturbed. It took some time, mostly because digging a grave wasn’t exactly _easy_ and because digging it by himself wasn’t easy, either – but he refused to let her help despite her asking if he wanted her to. Instead, he told her to hang on to his coat, and at one point he’d even lost his shirt because of how damn hot it was – the sun was nearly at its highest point in the sky – and she’d even collected that and held it protectively against her chest, too.

But when the hole was dug, they had to retrieve the body.

The Elder wasn’t really sure what to expect, but his first thought upon entering the vault when the platform reached the bottom was whether or not she closed the cryopod back up before she left. If she had, his body would likely still be preserved unless something went wrong with the computer’s mainframe on keeping the cryo going; but if she hadn’t, then Nate's body had probably deteriorated by now and she might get a shock from how her husband looked – and that was something she wouldn’t want to see, especially as a last image. So, when she began to hesitantly walk toward the steps that led into the vault, he shifted to be in front of her, hands gently placed on her waist beneath his coat to stop her from going any further.

“Nora,” he said quietly, and she furrowed her eyebrows as if she was expecting him to back out of helping her. But he’d never do that – even if her husband’s body was half-deteriorated with bugs crawling out of his eyes, he’d still help her bury him because that’s what she’d need, and it would help her cope and move on. He might need a few showers afterward and he might have to cover Nate’s body in his battle coat and, hell, even bury him with it – but he’d do what he needed to in order to help her and so she wouldn’t have to see her husband’s rotting corpse. Nora didn’t deserve that; she’d already been through too much. “Did you close the pod when you left? His pod?”

The vaultie stared up at him for a long moment before he saw her jaw tense and her eyes grew a little wide, and he knew that moment of realization and dread was slowly setting in. “I don’t remember,” she whispered; her voice was strained as tears were welling in her eyes – she was realizing she might have made a horrible mistake.

Arthur raised his hands to cup her face gently. “It’s okay. Why don’t you tell me how to get there and I’ll look?”

A few of those tears slid down her cheeks and he used his thumbs to wipe them away, but it only left dirt streaks on her skin since his hands were so dirty from digging. She didn’t seem to care, though, and relished in the affection by leaning into his touch, especially when he leaned forward and gently pressed his forehead against hers.

“Big door up ahead. Straight down the hall. His pod is the last one on the right.”

He nodded and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, but when he pulled away, she had her eyes tightly shut. “Stay here. I’ll bring him out,” he said quietly before taking his shirt from her and pulling it back on. The Elder then went up the stairs and followed her directions to the cryopods and, lo and behold, there they were – two rows, each pod having a frozen body in them except the last one on the left. Nora’s, most likely. And the last one on the right? Nate's.

══════════════════

It was taking too long. He’d went to the cryopod area that her husband was in and he should have been back by now if everything was fine. Granted, it was only a couple minutes ago, but still. She couldn’t wait any longer – she had to make sure he was okay. If something happened to him back there then she'd have lost two people she cared so much about in the exact same place and she knew she couldn't live with that - especially after learning about her son. No, she needed to remain close to Arthur; she had to know he was alright. Even spending minutes away from him was too much; she _needed_ him. So, she trailed after him, moving as quick as possible so she could be by his side again.

When she found him, he was peering into the last cryopod on the right, observing her deceased husband through the glass. It was a relief to find out Nate was still frozen and that she hadn’t forgotten to close the pod, or maybe it just closed itself after so long. She wasn’t really sure. But regardless, he was still preserved.

“I miss him,” she said quietly after approaching, and she saw Arthur startle at her words as if she wasn’t one of the noisiest people to ever walk the Commonwealth. His hands were balled into fists as he turned to face her, eyebrows furrowed, and she knew she should apologize for sneaking up on him, but she couldn’t control the tears that were forming in her eyes again. This entire situation was fucked up - her entire _life_ was fucked up.

His hands unclenched when his gaze settled on her. “I know, love,” he replied with a slightly strained voice before moving to wrap his arms around her.

She did the same, wrapping her own around his middle and burying her face in his broad chest, pressing her ear against his left pectoral to listen to his rapid heartbeat – it was usually so mild and steady, but now it was rapid. Was he nervous? It should have worried her, probably, but it was some sort of comfort knowing he, too, was anxious; it made her feel less alone.

The Elder didn’t pull away but instead waited for her to do so first, giving her all the time she needed as he held her against his chest; and she was glad for it because she needed to feel him there with her. After discovering everything she did about her son – about how he was alive; much, much older than she thought; and dying – she felt so alone in the world, like a brick wall had been built around her in layers upon layers, stacking against her to keep her enclosed so she couldn’t escape its confines. And no matter how many people were on her side – her companions, the Brotherhood, the Minutemen, and maybe even the Railroad to some extent – she still felt utterly alone. Her husband was gone, and her son was a monster and soon to be gone, as well. But feeling Arthur here and with her – hearing his heartbeat through his chest, no matter how rapid it thumped – told her she still had him.

A month ago, the man in her arms wouldn’t have been so considerate of her needs in this very moment; he would have pulled away after he’d grown too uncomfortable with the intimacy of sitting there and holding her while she cried, and he would have urged them to get it over with. But now? Now, he held her for as long as she needed, and maybe the _change_ was what she needed more than anything else – someone who was willing to adapt themselves to her because she’d adapted her entire life to accommodate to the fucked up world she found herself in against her will.

When she finally pulled away, she looked up to him with glassy eyes that could have passed for ones found in prewar toys as she gave him a sad, but thankful, smile. He took it as intended and released her from his hold, moving to the control panel; but before he could try to press a bunch of buttons like she had when she found herself released from her cryopod however long ago, she came up beside him and pushed the red switch at the bottom of the panel up.

_Malfunction in cryopod array. Manual release override initiated._

The familiar announcement made her chest ache and she found herself clinging to Arthur’s arm, her face burying in his bicep as if she could hide herself from the inevitable. His free hand moved to gently brush his fingertips against her scalp as they listened to the hissing of the pod door opening; and when it quieted down, only then did she pull away. Nora stepped around him, finally looking to her deceased husband.

Nate greeted her but it wasn’t in the same way he’d greeted her when she got home from a long day at the office or when he surprised her by coming into her work with flowers and lunch. No, instead, those hazel eyes that were more green than brown were no longer either of those colors, but were instead glazed over as they greeted her with her dead husband’s lifeless form. 

But, god, he was still perfect, just like he was when she woke up from her cryo sleep and just like he was before they even went into the fucking vault 210 years ago. A thin layer of ice still covered his body and the bullet hole that sat directly in the center of his forehead had little to no blood around it since he was almost immediately refrozen after he’d been killed. 

Tears had welled up in her eyes already, a few slipping over the bottom lids like an overflowing dam, leaving streaks of wet down her freckled cheeks as she stared up at her deceased husband. She couldn’t bring herself to look away nor could she stop herself from stepping forward and reaching out so the pads of her fingers gently touched his cheek; he was cold – and even if he hadn’t been frozen, the lack of life in him would have made him cold, anyway.

Fuck, it reminded her of Kellogg; _”Well, if it isn’t my old friend the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”_

“Hi, baby,” she whispered to him, “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to see you. I hope you’re not mad at me for it. I just… couldn’t bring myself to. Not until now, anyway. You know how I am with these things; always putting it off until the last minute because I can’t ever handle shit. You always got onto me about it, remember?” Nora turned her hand over, gently stroking his frozen cheek with the backs of her knuckles. “I brought someone here to help me bury you. I know you always said you didn’t want to be buried but that’s kinda the only option I have here, so if your ghost-self wants to yell at me, you go right ahead and do that. But you never believed ghosts were real, so I think I win on that front, huh?” A small, sad laugh was choked out with her tears before her free hand lifted to cover her mouth.

After a few seconds, the vaultie allowed her hand to drop back to her side while her other one lowered to his beard, fingers gently running through the icy red strands – he always hated how his beard was red while his head hair was brown, but she adored it.

“I want to talk to you about… about Arthur, but I can’t do it now. Not yet. I need to figure out what to say first, but I want you to know he’s a good man and he’s here to help me bury you. And he cares about me. But we’ll talk more about him soon, okay?” Her fingers straightened out a few of the stray beard hairs and she gently ran the pad of her thumb over a few white ones – he was always so proud of the white ones even though he hated the red.

“I found him. I found Shaun – I found our baby boy. But… he’s not a baby anymore.” She crinkled her brows and her eyes looked off to the side as she thought, but they returned back to her deceased husband’s face when she spoke again. “I found the fucker who took him from us and who… who killed you, and I blew his fucking brains out. And we—me and this guy Nick—used his memories to find Shaun. I thought he was ten and that we’d missed out on the first ten years of his life. But I was so happy he was alive. I followed the trail, just like you would have done. You’d be so proud of how far I’ve gone to get our baby back.”

The vaultie wiped the wetness from her cheeks, though it did no good because the tears still flowed from her eyes – the dam continued threatening to break. “He looks just like you, ya know. And I mean _exactly_ like you. So goddamn handsome. The only thing he even got from me was my freckles, but everything else? All you. And I knew it was him the moment I saw him, too. I don’t even know how, but I—” she cut herself off, eyes closing for a second as she shook her head.

“Do you remember when we found out I was pregnant?” she asked as she looked back to him; her hands began straightening out his vault suit, almost out of habit since she’d done it so many times before the war. When he dressed in the morning, she’d use her hands to straighten out his shirts and he’d always complain about it, but he’d let her do it anyway because he secretly loved the attention – and she knew that. “We knew exactly when and where it happened, didn’t we? We’d both been so busy with work and barely had any time together, but the first chance we got was late at night in the park. We said, ‘fuck it,’ and just did it right there in the back of the car, not caring if we got caught. God, it was incredible.” A weak smile had returned to her lips while she was continuing to smooth out the same wrinkle on his suit – it wasn’t actually smoothing out, but she continued to try. “Almost a month and a half later and we found out I was pregnant. Neither of us wanted to be parents and yet for some fucking reason we changed our minds.”

The wrinkle remained but she gave up on it, allowing her hands to move to her stomach, palms flat against it as if she were remembering when she was pregnant with Shaun. “And when I gave birth, you were right by my side. You were so happy to see our little boy; he was the most beautiful thing in the world, and I told you – I told you even before he was born – that he’d look just like you. And he did. He does. I just—” Nora cut herself off again, a hand covering her mouth to keep from breaking down again as she spoke behind her fingers, “—I just wish he’d turned out like you instead of the way he did.”

It took her a few moments to regain herself, but once she did, her eyes had fallen to his left hand where his wedding ring had been until she’d slipped it free from his finger the day she escaped her frozen tomb – and she found her own fingers twisting his ring on her left hand, just like she had for the first time when she was in the Institute, meeting her son. “I wish you were here to help me figure out what to do. Or that it was you who survived instead of me. You were so much better at this stuff – at surviving and living and being a parent. I can’t do any of this shit. Fuck, I can’t even cook well and I’m surprised I haven’t starved myself or given myself food poisoning or died of dysentery or whatever. It should have been me holding him in this stupid fucking pod, not you. I should have been the one who died. You were too good for this world to throw you away like it did, baby.”

But her crying began to get heavier again and her face started scrunching up as tears were flowing forcefully down her cheeks, wetting them more and more, resembling rivers that broke off into rivulets along her freckled skin. “I’m so sorry, Nate,” she said quietly, “I failed you. I failed Shaun. I told you I’d find him, and I did, but they—they stole him, and they corrupted his mind. He’s a fucking monster, Nate, and I don’t even know what to do now. They made our son into a fucking monster. He’s hurt so many people and he doesn’t even care.”

Nora didn’t speak for a few moments as her eyes studied Nate’s lifeless face, but her tears kept flowing and her breathing grew ragged; and when she spoke up next, she’d tried to whisper – but it wasn’t anywhere near as quiet as she wanted it to be. Instead, the words were choked with a sob as the dam behind her lids finally broke and all the tears and emotions were finally set free. “Oh, god. I think I have to kill him, baby. I think I have to kill our son.”

She fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed into her palms and Arthur was right beside her again, arms wrapping around her body and pulling her head against his chest, a loving kiss being placed to the top of her head.

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay. Breathe,” he whispered.

But she couldn’t – he didn’t understand. Nora couldn’t breathe because if she breathed then it meant she had to inhale the truth of what _had happened,_ what _was happening,_ and what _would happen_ – her husband was murdered and her son had been kidnapped, only to be turned into a heartless fucking monster who was the source of the plague of the Commonwealth and who wanted _her_ to take over and become that same monster he was. 

What horrible things had she done in her life – past lives? – to deserve this? She must have done something wrong; she must have wronged hundreds of people, or killed an innocent person, or stepped on a baby duck, or something else that was entirely unforgivable because all of this was just so fucking _unfair_ and it was all happening at once, like a downpour of rain from a single dark cloud that sat above her head and her head alone, following her around like a lost, ugly puppy that kept nipping at her heels. And she just wanted to fucking die. She wanted to shoot herself in the fucking head and have Arthur lay her to rest alongside her husband in the grave that was originally only dug for one, but she’d be fine with squeezing herself in there with him.

But she couldn’t kill herself; if not because she was too much of a coward, which she’d learned that in the past on numerous occasions, then because she had to stick around to finish what she’d started – dealing with her son; dealing with Shaun. He was a heartless monster now and she had to stop him; even if she only stuck around to do that, then fine, that’s what she had to do.

Then again, there was Arthur. Sweet, beautiful, young Arthur who had changed so much about himself just for her and who was doing everything in his power to help her. She’d do anything for him, too – but did that include keeping herself alive? Did that include wanting to live with herself after she lost her husband and then took her own son’s life, which she knew she’d have to do?

She wasn’t sure she could do that.

Nora didn’t know how much the Elder had heard of what she’d said to Nate about her son since he’d put some distance between them to give her privacy, but she knew he’d definitely heard the last part about having to kill Shaun because she was unable to keep herself quiet – and that meant he probably had _a lot more_ questions than he did before. But he was granting her mercy by not asking them yet, though she knew that wouldn’t – couldn’t – last forever.

They took a few minutes to calm her down and when she eventually said she was alright, he stood and helped her to her feet after. The vault dweller gave him the go-ahead to remove Nate from the pod but watched his every move, making sure he was careful with how he picked up her late husband’s body; she knew Nate was heavy – the man was a combination of fat and muscle, after all. He didn’t have a body like Arthur’s where muscle just rippled beneath his skin, but he was strong and built while still having plenty of weight on him – he was heavy. And as strong as the Elder was, there was no denying he would struggle getting Nate over his shoulder at first; the man weighed well over two hundred pounds, plenty more than Arthur, and yet still he didn’t complain. Instead, he bent at the knees and hoisted her husband over his shoulder, struggling just enough to notice but doing so without complaint.

But for a split second, Nora thought Arthur was about to drop him and she panicked. “Be careful!” she yelped, unable to stop herself; but immediately, she slapped her hands over her mouth, regretting her outburst. Arthur turned to face her as he had Nate over his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the man’s thighs to hold him steady.

“It’s alright, Nora. I won’t drop him, I promise.” His voice was so soft and comforting, and the only thing she could do was nod her head and trust he wouldn't. When he held out his hand for her, though, she looked down at it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before returning her gaze to his face; and when he gave her that lopsided smile, almost reassuring her that everything was alright, only then did she take his hand and lace their fingers together as they left the vault.

══════════════════

Nora watched how gentle the Elder was when he set Nate down in the grave, cradling his head like he would an infant so as not to disturb what was left of the man Nora had once planned to spend the rest of her life with.

Before he climbed out of the grave, though, she gave him a few items to put in there with her late husband – things of hers and Shaun’s; sentimental items that he deserved to be laid to rest with. A toy car, Shaun’s mobile from his crib, the SPECIAL book, her law degree which somehow managed to survive, and a few other things were all placed in there around him. She thought about leaving their wedding rings behind, but she knew she needed to keep something of his with her – and there really was nothing else. Their son was essentially dead and gone, there were no pictures of them in this world, and she had no other items to remember him by except their rings. She wanted those, at least.

Arthur climbed his way out of the grave and stood beside her, one arm wrapping around her waist as she leaned her head against him. He didn’t start shoveling dirt in yet, seeming to give her some time and waiting for her order to do so – and maybe she needed that.

Nora wanted to say something – anything – but didn’t really even know what to say; she’d never really had to do a eulogy before nor did she go to many funerals in the past that weren’t of Nate’s old military buddies. Was she supposed to say nice things about him? Explain what happened in his life? How he was an army guy who eventually came to hate the military? Or how they met right after she’d graduated high school while she was working at a grocery store and he came in wearing his uniform – because, _fuck,_ uniforms definitely got her attention for some reason – since he’d been drafted into the service the year before? Or was she supposed to say his parents were pieces of shit and hers weren’t really any better so they made do by depending on one another? No, none of that would work.

Besides, this wasn’t a proper funeral. He should have been buried in a casket or something but there wasn’t really anything to even bury him in; and it wasn’t like she could just go and buy one from the corner store or the local graveyard, anyway. She could have asked Sturges to make one, sure, but that was a waste of resources and time when both of those things were scarce in the postwar world. Nate would have understood.

But as she leaned against Arthur, the man she was now truly considering spending her life with and was debating on just how long her life would actually be, looking down into the grave at the man who she was originally planning to spend the rest of her life with, she felt… guilty. A wave of guilt washed over her but never receded, and instead ate at her insides like she was a wooden house that had been infiltrated by giant termites.

Would Nate approve of Arthur? Nate had been drafted into the military when he turned eighteen and stayed in it for a while, but after learning a lot of what was happening behind the scenes during the Great War, he lost his respect and desire to serve and, instead, spent a lot of his time after leaving working on helping veterans who were effected by the war and left behind by the politicians who used them as tools and props, as well as doing what he could to help stop the war from getting any worse. For all the good that did, obviously.

And now, Nora had ended up with another military guy – someone who probably would have fallen right in line with the old America’s views and actions of _kill, kill, kill, commie, commie, commie_ despite disagreeing with everything that happened now. Would the ghost of her husband scold her for her choice to be with Arthur? Or would he approve because Arthur could change, as he’d shown thus far?

Besides, she didn’t _intend_ to fall for the Elder of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. It just… happened. Really, they were supposed to be just a tool for her to find her son – and Arthur was supposed to be a fuck buddy she could go to when she needed to relieve some stress. Obviously, he’d intended to see her that way, too, but somehow, she’d caught feelings along the way and then _he’d_ caught feelings and it all sort of spiraled from there.

And now, here she was, rubbing it in her dead husband’s face that she found someone – a much younger someone – who held beliefs different from his and hers that they hadn’t even really addressed yet, but she was willing to ignore it for now against her better judgment. But the vaultie knew once they did address it, there would be a barrier erected between them; she could only pretend for so long.

Nate wouldn’t approve. She knew that. And she hated herself for it. 

“I was gonna ask Danse to do this because I didn’t think it was right or fair or whatever to ask you,” she admitted quietly while leaning against him a bit more and pulling his coat tighter around her; it was just comically big on her much smaller frame, “But then I figured you should meet him.”

Arthur shifted so he was facing her and both arms wrapped around her body to pull her close to his chest. He smelled like dirt and sweat from having dug a hole, but the smell was comforting; he worked hard for _her._ And even when he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, only to kiss her atop her head, he still remained quiet because he was giving her time to think and speak. He knew she needed it.

God, he’d changed so much over the past few months – and he’d done it for her, hadn’t he?

Maybe she didn’t appreciate that enough. What had _she_ changed about herself for _him?_

Nora sighed before nuzzling her face against his sternum and then pressed her ear against his left pectoral, listening to his rapid heartbeat again; it still wasn’t a slow and steady pace. “He was a good man. Stubborn and hard-headed and a little controlling sometimes, but a good man.”

“You certainly do have a type, don’t you?”

His voice rumbled from his chest as her ear was pressed to it and it made her shiver. But his words were teasing, bringing a smile to her face. He knew her well enough now to know humor was how she coped with life, and he was trying to use it with her, as well. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes glassy once again as tears were threatening to form. But she knew he was right – Nate fit a fairly similar description as Arthur. Bulky, had a beard, stubborn, hard-headed, controlling. Check, check, check, check, check.

The vaultie sighed again before looking back down and into the grave, taking a moment to observe her late husband and imprint his peaceful form into her memory before nodding her head.

”Okay. I think it’s time,” she said softly. She felt Arthur place a gentle, loving kiss to the top of her head before he pulled away and went to the shovel he’d left sticking up from the mound of dirt, then began to shovel it back in to finally put her husband to rest like he deserved.

As she watched Arthur bury her late husband for her, knowing he’d never have done this for anyone else and wouldn’t even have done this for her just a few months ago, she realized the depth he cared for her was infinite and she felt the same way. It made her think that Nate wouldn’t hate Arthur so long as they made one another happy and treated each other right; and that Arthur was willing to change for her, as he’d shown so far.

Hell, maybe Nate would approve of him, after all.

She’d have to ask later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I write, I put myself in each character's shoes - so I often find myself feeling the same emotions that the character is feeling. this is what makes me a good writer, in my opinion, because I put myself in that mindset so I can fully understand how the character feels because I'm feeling the same way. however, the downfall to this is I sometimes have trouble getting out of those mindsets. I can get stuck in them for hours or even days at a time, depending on how intense they are.
> 
> that said, please take some time to rest, breathe deep and slow, and stay hydrated. these are important when dealing with emotions.
> 
> if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, my twitter handle is in my bio. you can message me at any time and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
> 
> there are people in the world who care about you whether you realize it or not. let me be one of them.


	51. What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Arthur, something clicked almost right away. Maybe not on his end, but it did on hers. And it wasn’t about the sex, really, but more so about how she found it so easy to give him her control and how eagerly he took it, letting her become free of her burdens for a while.

“You… what? What did you just say?”

Those beautiful blue eyes she always found herself getting lost in stared at her, their irises almost crystalline while their color resembled that of a tumbled angelite mineral, so much paler than her own lapis lazuli. There was a clear cocktail of surprise, confusion, and panic in his expression as he asked her to repeat herself, and Nora realized it wasn’t often she saw him panic. The night her symptoms of radiation poisoning began to drastically escalate, she saw the worry and dismay in his eyes, but it was much more present now as his gaze was puncturing her very soul—and it made her feel worse than she already did despite how one of her favorite songs played softly in the background within his quarters.

They’d stayed in Sanctuary Hills for the night after burying Nate. Codsworth had cooked them something to eat, just some brahmin steak with a little bit of pork n’ beans on the side; Arthur didn’t really trust the Mister Handy, but he’d kept his comments to himself, which she appreciated because it meant he was trying to be considerate of how she felt. For the rest of the evening, they’d laid in bed naked and cuddled; nothing sexual happened, of course, since the vaultie wasn’t ready for that and she _definitely_ wasn’t ready to fuck someone else in the room she and Nate once shared – in the house she and Nate bought together oh so long ago.

No, that place was her literal sanctuary of where she held memories of her dead husband. While she may have been cuddling with another man within the confines of the home she’d lived in with Nate, she couldn’t bring herself to go any further. She wouldn’t.

Still, she’d laid on Arthur’s chest while he’d laid on his back, his arms tightly around her as her ear was pressed to his left pectoral; she’d listened to the _thump, thump, thump_ of his heartbeat that resembled a kickdrum with its slow, steady pace. It was calming and kept her grounded throughout the night because it told her he was there, he was with her, and he was alive – unlike her husband and soon to be unlike her son.

No matter how alone Nora felt in the world, Arthur’s presence always brought her back from the brink, reminding her that she was, in fact, in good and safe company with someone who cared deeply about her and would do whatever she needed.

She figured out she had feelings for him fairly early and much sooner than he realized his own, of course; because at that point, Arthur still thought of himself as a monster who didn’t even _have_ any emotions or feelings at all. He was a postwar Grendel who was determined to prove to the inhabitants of Heorot and King Hrothgar himself just how much of a monster he really was.

And he’d tried to push her away even after he was the one who’d pursued her in the first place; he’d went back to her as often as she’d went back to him under the guise of just seeking a release, but eventually, he was hooked – they’d became hooked on one another; addicted to the chem of the other’s affection and attention, much to their consternation. As much as he hurt her, and she hurt him – though he hurt her a hell of a lot worse and much more often – they just could not stay away from one another. Nora continuously crawled back to him time and time again and he eagerly devoured every bit of her because he couldn’t get enough.

But the vaultie knew how unhealthy their relationship was from the start. She was pissed off at what he’d said to her the first time they’d fucked around, when he’d eaten her out but refused to have sex – _I know how this goes. You lose the love of your life and find emotional refuge in the first person to offer it to you. That person cannot be me. I cannot offer you that sort of emotional support._ – yet still went back to him after she’d fucked MacCready, telling him she’d done the job of making sure he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

And why? Because she craved his attention. She’d gotten a small taste and already wanted more.

MacCready was attractive, there was no denying that – but he wasn’t her type when it came to relationships. Nora needed someone who wasn’t so similar to her; someone who could keep her on track and on a schedule because she could never hold herself accountable for anything and she often let the stress of her everyday life become overbearing. Nate had helped take some of the weight off her shoulders and had catered to her depression and anxiety, knowing how to help her cope with her past trauma just as she helped him cope with his. But MacCready was much too similar to her – goofy, used humor and sarcasm as a coping mechanism, even had a similar situation where his spouse died, and he was trying to save his son. Sure, he was a good fuck, and the man knew what he was doing between the sheets – and between her legs – but she didn’t feel that spark with him.

With Arthur, though? Something clicked almost right away. Maybe not on his end, but it did on hers. And it wasn’t about the sex, really, but more so about how she found it so easy to give him her control and how eagerly he took it, letting her become free of her burdens for a while. It wasn’t in the same way Nate had helped her, but it was _something,_ and it _worked._ It was a fucking relief, really – to not have to worry about what was happening in her life and to instead let someone else take over for a while, handing them all the weight on her shoulders so she could just relax. And maybe that’s what drew her back to the Elder over and over again despite the undue stress he was causing her outside of their sex life with his jealousy and childish games and antics.

But even so, it only took a few weeks for her to catch feelings for him and to want more, though she’d tried to refrain from letting those feelings grow. She knew what they had could only be sex and she knew Arthur didn’t want anything more, which he’d kept saying and throwing in her face, repeating the same few sentences like one of those creepy prewar Furbies when its batteries were getting low – _I can’t give you what you want. We can only have sex. I don’t want anything more. You can’t get dependent on me._

Nora _craved_ the affection, though – she was touch-starved, and his aftercare was so goddamn intimate. Sure, MacCready cuddled with her after sex and stayed throughout the night so they woke up together, which contrasted with how Arthur was always gone by the time she woke up, but she missed affection and intimacy; and whether Arthur realized it or not, he gave it to her. She’d missed showering with someone, feeling rough hands delicately touching her body after sex, having someone protectively hold her and whisper in her ear while she was sore and worn out from how rough they’d fucked. And maybe Arthur didn’t intend for his aftercare to be so intimate, but it was, and it reminded her of something she no longer had.

The moment she knew she'd really fallen for him, though, was after what he’d done in the showers – when he’d made Danse watch while he fucked her. She knew it was wrong and she couldn’t believe he’d done it, couldn’t believe she’d let it happen, and couldn’t believe Danse actually obeyed and remained there. But even after it was over – even after she’d yelled at him and struck him twice and ignored him for three days while she crashed in the paladin’s room, then sent Arthur on a wild goose chase on the final day before confronting him on the forecastle, she still eventually came back. She’d drank with Danse and thought they’d fucked since they passed out naked – to be fair, they almost did actually fuck – and Arthur discovered them, only to become outraged and throw a childish temper tantrum and destroy his room, hurting himself in the process. And yet she’d still went to him, gave him stimpacks for his injuries, and helped him fall asleep because he hadn’t slept for days.

Even after she’d went on her mission, fucked MacCready, and came back, she’d still went to his room when he’d asked her to – because she always went back to him. And she always would.

Nora had it bad for him.

Was it love? Perhaps. She had no fucking clue. It didn’t feel the same way it did with Nate – but she’d been with him for ten years before the vault and she’d only been with Arthur for a handful of months, including times where they weren’t even officially ‘together.’ Then again, even if she _did_ love Arthur, she couldn’t love him like she loved Nate because they weren’t the same person. She would love them both differently – just as much, but not the same. They were two different people from two different worlds, and they deserved their own separate pieces of her heart. For now, Nate held the larger piece – and perhaps he always would – but Arthur was gaining ground, and he was gaining it fast.

So, maybe she did love Arthur. Maybe she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, even if that meant she’d die tomorrow or next year or fifty years from now – because he made her happy.

But the most significant thing about Arthur wasn’t that he made her smile or that he was incredible at sex or that he’d changed himself specifically for her even though that was fairly significant; but it was that he made her want to live – even in this fucked up world where death was looming around every corner, ready to steal lives and sell them on the black market, he made her want to keep living. And not just in the sense of keeping her heart beating and blood pumping and brain functioning, but in the sense of how she wanted to do more than just fight to survive and exist in an environment that would be satisfied if every living creature were dead aside from the fiercest ones. Nora _wanted_ to live because of him; she wanted to live _for_ him.

And now, she wanted to live for someone else, too.

“I said I’m pregnant.”

_I say I’ll move the mountains_  
_And I’ll move the mountains_  
_If he wants them out of the way._  
_Crazy, he calls me_  
_Sure, I’m crazy._  
_Crazy in love, I’d say._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops
> 
> who wants to guess which chapter that happened in


	52. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How long have you known?”
> 
> “For sure? Since yesterday,” she answered quietly.
> 
> “And since you’ve suspected?”
> 
> “It’s… not so much that _I suspected_ it as it is that… Shaun told me I was.”

Arthur’s chest felt like it was about to cave in at any moment.

“You… what? What did you just say?” he asked just before his breath hitched in his throat. Maybe he’d misheard her or maybe she’d misspoke or maybe this was one of her ridiculous pranks that she was taking way too far.

“I said I’m pregnant.”

His eyes dropped to her stomach and he stared at it for a long moment as if she should have already had a swollen belly or he could see through the cloth and skin and tissue and straight into her womb, only to observe what might be growing inside it; but he couldn’t. And instead, his gaze returned to her face as he struggled to decipher what she was thinking and feeling. For someone who often exhibited her feelings in her expressions so it was easy for him to read, she wasn’t showing any at the moment – or at least none that he could tell. She must have been intentionally blocking it out so he couldn’t see them.

Which meant this must have been some cruel joke.

“That isn’t funny, Nora,” he growled.

The vaultie’s eyes narrowed as her brows crinkled together, giving him the first reaction since she’d entered the room moments ago; hell, she hadn’t even moved away from the door after she’d closed it.

“I’m not joking, Arthur. Why the fuck would I joke about being pregnant? Especially after I just buried my husband and met my sixty-year-old son?”

The Elder was struggling to understand exactly what was happening here. Nora didn’t appear to be joking, he was sure of that now, and it sent a wave of panic through him. If she was pregnant, that meant he’d be a father and she a mother – again – and they’d be raising a child together. They’d have to get married, assuming the Council approved of her as a fitting wife and didn’t just try to take the child from her after she gave birth with the intention of raising it at the Citadel like how he was raised.

But… was he even ready for one?

Then again, whether he was ready for a child or not didn’t matter when it came to the fact he was the last Maxson. It was his job to procreate. That’s what he’d been told since he was a boy – he needed to find a suitable wife with good genes and have as many children as possible so he was not the last of his name and the Maxson Dynasty could live on.

Arthur leaned to the side a bit and put an elbow on the table, one hand going to his face and scratching at his beard. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but he could see she was shifting on her feet uncomfortably at the silence.

“How far along?” he asked. 

“Cade said about a month.”

They’d been back on the Prydwen for two days since having buried Nate – meaning she was back in the Commonwealth from the Institute for three days – and he’d noticed she’d been distant and not herself whatsoever. She didn’t talk much and instead just remained in his quarters throughout the day, rarely ever speaking; and the closest she even got to him was cuddling in bed, but that was it. He assumed it was because she was still mourning her husband and coping with the situation of her son, but maybe it also had to do with the stress of the news.

“And how long have you known?” When she didn’t answer, his eyes flicked up to look at her, only to find her gaze on the ground as she chewed on her lower lip. He figured maybe she needed a few moments to gather her thoughts before she answered, but when she still remained quiet, that told him she didn’t actually _want_ to answer, or at least didn’t know how to. “Nora,” he called softly; but she still didn’t look at him – she was hiding something. If she wouldn’t respond to his regular tone, though, he knew what she _would_ respond to. “Eyes on me, pet,” he snapped, and the vaultie immediately looked up at him, her brows furrowed. “I asked you a question. How long have you known?”

“For sure? Since yesterday,” she answered quietly.

“And since you’ve suspected?” She let her eyes drop again; he was growing tired of playing this game. “Eyes up, Nora,” he snapped again.

She obeyed but the look of worry had splashed over her face. “It’s… not so much that I _suspected_ it as it is that… Shaun told me I was.”

The Elder closed his eyes for a second before he let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. She’d explained everything that happened in the Institute to him already – she told him about her son, about how he was old and frail and dying, and about how he wanted her to take over as the Director of the Institute when he died; but she’d never mentioned _this._ So it wasn’t truly everything, was it?

“Explain,” he ordered.

“Can I sit down?” she asked.

He waved his hand at the chair she usually sat in, giving her the permission she sought after because he knew she was feeling stressed and wanted him to take some of the weight off her shoulders, even if it was with something as small as allowing her to sit somewhere. Nora sat in the same chair she always did, the one diagonally to his left, and let her eyes drift to the metal floor. He didn’t correct her this time.

“When I first got to the Institute, I guess I went through a bunch of scans without realizing it and one of them revealed I was pregnant. I don’t really understand the technicality of it all, but Shaun said the scan confirmed it. So, I guess I’ve suspected it for about a week and a half. I didn’t—I didn’t really believe him, I guess. I didn’t want to. But when we came back, I gave Cade some blood and told him to do a pregnancy test and he confirmed last night that I’m about one month pregnant.”

“You should have told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“And you’re sure it’s mine?”

That, however, was the wrong question to ask – and he only realized it when it was too late. She’d been staring at the floor, her expression one of maybe regret and sadness; but the moment he asked, her face changed to a look of rage. Those royal blue eyes flicked up to him, a glare puncturing the wall he’d carefully constructed around himself and telling him he’d made a drastic mistake.

“Are you fucking serious, Arthur?”

But he stared at her, not backing down – not yet, at least. “I’m not trying to upset you, Nora, I just know you were sleeping with – what’s his name, MacCready? – for a while. I just don’t know when you stopped. That’s all I’m asking.”

Nora scoffed. “You are un-fucking-believable.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” he finally conceded with a sigh. “Alright, so, a month. I haven’t cum in you within the past month, though. The last time was—” he stopped.

“Pulling out isn’t guaranteed, you know. I guess I got pregnant from precum. It’s not common, but it happens,” she said.

He thought it over, trying to remember the last time they actually had sex to backtrack from there, but she got to it first. “The beach.” Ah, that made sense. They’d fucked three times that night. He just nodded his head.

They both went quiet again and Arthur found himself scratching at his beard. It was about as long as it had been before he’d trimmed it down for her; perhaps he’d trim it short again if she’d preferred that length better. It was less itchy and hot, after all.

“What are our options?” she asked.

But that was when he stared at her, baffled. Was she serious? Options? What sort of options did she even expect there to be? “You will have the child and we’ll raise it together,” he said simply.

The vaultie’s mouth opened slightly as she stared at him, surprise and confusion on her face at the fact he didn’t even give her any options other than to give birth and raise the baby. “But—”

“Nora, look outside. We live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland filled with radiation and limited technology and medical care. What sort of options are you expecting to exist here?”

She was keeping eye contact now despite how frustrated he’d become, a slightly aggressive tone having taken over.

“What, do you want to put it up for adoption after it’s born?” he asked. “My heir stays with me, end of story. Or were you subtly asking if you could get an abortion? If that’s the case, show me where you even see that being a safe possibility because I have some soldiers who’d like to know.”

Her jaw was tight, and her face was growing red; it was a sign her anger was spiking because of how cruel he was speaking to her.

Arthur continued. “The only options we have are you give birth to our child and we raise it together or you give birth and I’ll raise it myself.”

His words and tone were harsh, he knew that, and perhaps they were harsher than he intended them to be, but he didn’t understand why she expected there to be options for her – and even if there _were_ options like adoption and abortion, why she thought he’d even allow her to get rid of his unborn child.

Besides, Cade knew she was pregnant, so there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind the Council back at the Citadel knew about it now, as well. 

“You don’t have to be a dick about it, Arthur. I just wanted to talk it out to help calm my nerves. I didn’t actually want to get a fucking abortion,” she hissed. Her voice was growing a bit louder as her anger was rising. “And don’t ever threaten to raise my baby by yourself again. If you even think for one fucking second I’d ever leave my child, then I’ll punch you in the goddamn throat.”

Arthur sighed before he leaned back in his seat, spread his legs, and planted his feet flat on the ground before patting his thigh. “Come here,” he said gently, undeterred by her threat and aggressive tone.

She looked over at him with a glare and seemed to size him up from where she sat, likely debating whether she wanted to go sit in his lap like he just told her to because she was pissed off; but she gave in after a few seconds and quietly huffed with aggravation. Nora stood and approached him, sliding into his lap so she was straddling his legs. Her arms wrapped around his middle as she buried her face in his neck, making a small noise as he wrapped his own arms around her and held her tightly to his chest; one of his hands slipped beneath the back of her shirt as he gently rubbed his rough palm up and down her spine, soothing her. Almost immediately, her anger was gone.

They were quiet again and he wasn’t sure exactly how long he held her in his arms, listening and feeling her breath against his neck while his cheek rested against her temple as he rubbed her bare back; but he knew the second she whispered against him with barely-audible words as they were muffled against his skin, he was at a loss of what to do or say.

“I’m scared.”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows before turning his head just enough to place a gentle kiss to her temple, holding it for a few seconds and then turning to rest his cheek back against it again.

While he’d never admit it, he knew he was scared, too – or at least he thought he was. It wasn’t often he felt this way; and it wasn’t the same sort of scared like when he faced off against the mother deathclaw where he feared for his life, or when he was scared Amelia wouldn’t come back, or even when he was scared of becoming Elder at such a young age. No, this type of scared wasn’t just because he didn’t know what was awaiting him in the future, but also because he had absolutely _no control_ over anything that happened, either. Because, try as he might, Arthur couldn’t control anything with Nora’s pregnancy; it was an unknown – unexplored territory for him.

The vault dweller unwrapped her arms from around him and sat up, her eyes glassy as she looked at him like she was waiting for him to speak first – but he didn’t, and eventually, he saw that familiar crack on her surface that detailed the beginning of a break in the floodgates. Her eyebrows just barely crinkled and it was only for a second, but he’d seen it enough times to know it meant she was about to cry; he’d caused that same expression to appear time and time again to not be able to recognize it by now.

Arthur raised his hands to cup her face and pull her against him, their foreheads gently pressed together. He said her name quietly, but it only made a few tears fall from her eyes and down her freckled cheeks; he just wiped them away with his thumbs. “Tell me why you’re scared.”

Nora shook her head, though, as more tears began to fall; she tried to deny him access to what she was thinking, but he knew better by now that if she was crying in his arms, she’d soon talk about it. So, he gave her some time as his thumbs continued to wipe away tear after tear while he pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her temples, her wet cheeks, and her lips. And when she finally spoke, he almost became _enraged._

Not at her, no – but at the fucking Institute.

“I don’t want this baby to be taken away, too,” she said quietly, her voice cracking with the last few words as she tried to keep herself from crying, one hand even coming up to cover her mouth. When she spoke, she’d broken eye contact and instead was looking at his chin, then his jaw, then the wall behind him – anywhere but his eyes. It was that same submissive action she was doing the night she’d came back from Goodneighbor before she’d found out he’d fucked someone else in their bed. But he still didn’t entirely understand why she was doing it, even now.

“Nora,” he said quietly as he released her face. She glanced up to his eyes but only for a second before her face crinkled even more, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Look at me.”

The vaultie shook her head and instead tipped it down, looking at her hands that were placed between them; they were messing with one of the zippers on his suit as if she was trying to keep herself occupied so she didn’t have to look at him. She wouldn’t listen, and that was fine, because he knew what would change that.

“Eyes on me,” he snapped, and Nora immediately looked up at him, her brows furrowed. Arthur’s hand went out and took hold of her chin like he usually did, but it was much gentler. “Listen to me,” he said, and she gave a slight nod of her head to confirm she was listening, “I would never let anything like that happen, Nora. Ever. No one will ever harm you nor our child because I will fucking kill them before they even get close enough to try. Do I make myself clear?”

He felt her swallow before she nodded again, but he only had to cock one eyebrow up before she corrected herself. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised. The Elder released her then and leaned in to place a gentle kiss to her lips; it was intended to be more comforting and reassuring than anything despite how he’d just used the same tone of voice he used as her Dom when giving her orders when they fucked, but he knew when she was panicking and upset and unable to respond to his regular tone, there was a better chance she’d respond to the other one. It told her she could let him take her stress off her shoulders, even if it was only for a second.

When he pulled away from the kiss, Nora just leaned forward so her body was relaxing against his chest again, her arms around his waist and her face buried in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her like before and began rubbing the palm of his hand up and down her bare spine, soothing her. She fell quiet again and he just let her relax against him, feeling the tension in her muscles slowly melt away as she did.

Until another piece of anxiety came up.

“What if… our baby turns out to be a monster. Like…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but he knew it could have gone one of two ways – like Shaun, her son, who was terrorizing the Commonwealth; or like Arthur, her lover, who actively went out of his way to hurt the people who cared about him. She always said she didn’t see him as a monster, but he knew somewhere deep down that wasn’t the case.

“That won’t happen,” he said after kissing her temple again. “You never got the chance to be a mother and raise your son, Nora. But you will raise our child, I promise you that.”

She sighed with some relief against his neck, seeming to be comforted by his words. “But…” she began, and he felt her fingers grab at the cloth of his jumpsuit once more, gripping it tightly, “Is our baby going to be a soldier?”

Arthur didn’t answer her because he knew she wouldn’t like the truth. Their child would, in fact, become a squire at the age of ten and then an initiate at the age of sixteen, just like he did and just like every other child of the Brotherhood did. Being a Maxson may have special privileges to some extent, but it didn’t exclude serving, no matter what Nora thought about it. Their kids would have hard lives, just as he did, but at least their parents would be around.

“Arthur,” she whispered, bringing him back, “You need to promise me that’s not going to happen. Nate was drafted as a soldier and I almost lost him at Anchorage. You were forced to be a soldier and still are and I could lose you at any time. I don’t—I don’t want our child to be forced into being one, too. I’ve lost one family already. I’ve lost so many people.” The vaultie pushed away from him a little to sit up in his lap, her hands moving to cup his face as she locked her eyes with his. “You need to promise me, Arthur. Please. Promise me our kid won’t be put through what you were put through; promise me they won’t be forced into being a soldier.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her. He knew she had every right to be upset – hell, he wished it wasn’t necessary for their child – and maybe eventually children – to become a squire and then an initiate, but it was their _duty_ as part of the Brotherhood, and _especially_ as a Maxson. While he wasn’t always proud of everything he’d done as a soldier, and he knew he’d went through a lot of childhood trauma because of it that made him what he was today – he knew it was his responsibility to serve in the Brotherhood. Even still, he wouldn’t let his children experience things the same way he did; no, he’d make sure they’d have a proper childhood with loving parents – but it would just also include preparing to serve in the Brotherhood. He couldn’t change that, even if he wanted to.

Then again, he’d do anything he could to make Nora happy. He’d move the fucking mountains and part the goddamn seas if she asked him to; he’d give her the world if she wanted it. “I’ll do everything I can to ensure they will not be enlisted,” he said quietly.

She gave him a small smile, one that told him she knew their child’s future as a soldier was likely inevitable but that she hoped he would, in fact, try. And he would. He’d try his hardest because she asked him to. Because he wanted to make her happy. Because he’d do anything for her.

Nora leaned in and kissed him, pressing her lips to his in a deep and passionate move – one that showed her appreciation and care; and the only thing he could do was return it and wrap his arms around her to hold her tightly against his chest. And only when she broke the kiss to breathe, panting so close to his lips that they were just breathing each other’s air, did she finally speak.

“I guess I can call you ‘daddy’ now without it being a lie.”

He groaned.


	53. Gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Talk to me,” she whispered; he could only laugh against her neck.
> 
> “I’m trying to be gentle with you, Nora. I don’t think talking dirty is going to—”
> 
> “It doesn’t have to be dirty. I just—I just want to hear your voice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluffy smut, anyone?

Their lips were close as they panted, breathing one another’s air after having shared a kiss; his forehead was gently pressed against hers when their eyes met, and he saw the corners of her lips twitch just slightly – that told him she was up to no good.

“I guess I can call you ‘daddy’ now without it being a lie.”

Arthur’s head fell back as he rolled his eyes and let out a groan. Nora immediately went for his throat, though, and was placing soft kisses along the column as if she were apologizing for the ridiculous joke – but he knew better than that. She found herself hilarious.

“You know, I _could_ have said the other thing,” she mumbled against his skin.

“Do I even want to know what ‘the other thing’ is?”

“Mm… probably.”

The Elder sighed dramatically and felt her grin against his throat. “Alright, get it over with.”

“I was gonna say that now you can cum inside me all you want.”

Ah, fuck. He couldn’t hold back the low moan in his throat at the thought of fucking her and filling her with his spend; and, at the same time, she dragged the tip of her tongue along his skin, just below where he shaved the edge of his beard.

”I know you always think about doing it; about claiming me by filling me with your cum.” She kissed her way along his beard line until she made it to a spot just below his ear; and from there, she whispered quietly to him. “Now’s your chance.”

══════════════════

If every single person in the world had their own individual switch located somewhere on their body that immediately turned them on, Arthur’s would definitely be his throat – specifically right where he shaved his beard, at the line where his head connected with his neck, along the column. He was so sensitive there, which was why Nora always took advantage of it and paid extra attention to it when he bared his throat to her; she’d place kisses and licks and gentle bites because he’d just melt every time she did. And even now when she started placing soft kisses there, she felt him immediately start filling out his jumpsuit beneath her.

She shifted in his lap so she could grind down on him, demanding friction between her legs as she continued to give his neck and throat attention. One of her hands went to the opposite side of his neck – the side she wasn’t focusing on – and encouraged him to tip his head back and to the side to give her more access. He did, of course, which was always the most submissive he’d ever be for her.

Arthur’s hands went to her hips, callused fingers slipping beneath her shirt and gently gliding up her sides; his rough palms always made her shiver when he touched the sensitive skin there because she was so ticklish. But he gently tugged her shirt off, requiring her to pull away from him and raise her arms before he could toss it to the side; she was immediately back at his throat, though, placing a slow trail of kisses to just beneath his ear, nipping the lobe before she whispered to him.

“Can I mark you?” Arthur made a low moan and nodded, then started undoing his jumpsuit for her so she could gain access to his chest, willing to let her mark him just like she did on the beach. But that’s not what she wanted. “I wanna mark your neck, baby.”

That made him freeze and she pulled back to look at him, noticing how his eyebrows were furrowed as he seemed sort of torn on what he wanted to say. Any other time, he would have immediately told her no and that she could only mark places that weren’t visible – but now, well, he seemed _conflicted._ And that made her want it even more.

Nora leaned in and pressed her lips to his, kissing him slowly as her hands raised – one threading her fingers into his hair and the other cupping the side of his neck again. She was still grinding herself down on him, feeling how thick and hard he was through their clothes.

“Let me mark your neck,” she mumbled against his lips, and he just moaned but didn’t answer. She broke the kiss before going back to his throat, trailing kisses to his ear once again where she nipped the lobe and sucked it into her mouth, then released it. “Please, daddy?” she whispered.

That seemed to break his will, though, because he let out another low rumble from his chest before nodding, basically going belly up just because she called him ‘daddy’ again.

Then again, it did have a different meaning now.

“Okay,” he said, but his voice was so _husky_ from how much attention she was paying to his neck.

Fuck. He was so goddamn sexy.

The hand in his hair was on his shoulder now, and the hand on the side of his neck shifted just slightly so her thumb slipped to the other side of his throat in order for her to tip his head for her again – but he seemed to have alarm bells going off in his head at the action because she felt him grab her wrist, coaxing a gasp from her before he readjusted her hold, keeping all her fingers on one side of his neck. It was only then she realized he thought she might try to choke him, which would be taking his control – and he would never allow that. 

But she guided his head differently, placing her thumb on the underside of his jaw instead, persuading him to tilt his head back and to the side again as she placed licks and kisses along his skin, searching for the spot she wanted to mark – and once she found it, she sank her teeth into the flesh, biting and sucking at the same time and aiming to give him a large, dark bruise that no one could ignore.

And _fuck,_ his reaction was something she’d never forget. His body tensed beneath her for half a second before he almost went limp. His jaw slacked, followed by a long, deep moan that, if she didn’t know any better, might have made her think he’d cum just from getting bitten there; and despite how his body was lax beneath her, his fingers were digging into her ass, hands having slipped into the back of her jeans and found purchase there.

“Fuck, Nora,” he hissed when she bit down a little harder, determined to leave her mark; but she made a soft moan against him, sending vibrations into his skin that made him gasp. And when she was satisfied with how the bruise would turn out, she slowly released his neck, allowing his flesh to fall free before she placed gentle kisses to the bite mark and then returned to his lips, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“How long has it been since we’ve had sex?” she asked against his lips.

“Twenty-three days.”

Nora snorted. “Keeping track?”

They pulled apart as they were both panting. “Well, I know for a fact we won’t be making it to twenty-four,” he rumbled, sounding so sure of himself.

But Nora just grinned at his words and felt his hands slide out of the back of her jeans, instead slipping up to her bra and unclasping it, then pulling it off her arms and tossing it away. Rather than trying to grope her breasts, however, he instead went down to the front of her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as her hands went to fiddle with his jumpsuit – but she already knew he’d just bat her hands away after she struggled with it for a few seconds. She really hated the damn things.

Of course, he did just that and pushed his suit down to his hips, then tugged his undershirt off, revealing his bare chest and holotags as they clanked together momentarily. The vaultie leaned in again and started kissing his collarbone, having missed every damn inch of his body; sure, they had masturbated in front of one another while they weren’t having sex, but they didn’t actually _touch_ each other outside of cuddling. She missed running her fingers through his chest hair and grabbing it while he fucked her; she missed licking along his neck and throat and clavicle; she missed touching his cock and groping his balls and feeling him deep inside her.

She just fucking _missed him._

“Bed?” she mumbled against his collarbone.

“Mm. Don’t wanna hurt the baby.”

Wait, what? Nora pulled back and stared at him with disbelief, her mouth open and the question of _’are you fucking serious?’_ right on the tip of her tongue before Arthur let a slow, Cheshire cat-like grin spread across his face. He stood then, his hands on her ass as she wrapped her arms and legs around him while she shot him an unamused glare.

“Did you really just crack a joke, Arthur Maxson? I thought jokes were illegal in the Brotherhood.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m the one who makes the rules,” he quipped as he set her on the bed. His hands slowly unlaced and tugged her boots off while he remained standing, which he then started on her pants and underwear. The vault dweller let him do the work and instead slid a hand between her legs, her fingers rubbing slow circles on her clit.

“Well, at least we know our baby will come out with a great sense of humor. Or a dull one, if it gets yours. There’s a 50/50 chance.”

He shot her a smirk as he tossed her pants and underwear to the side. “Better hope it gets your freckles or else people might not be so tolerant of this ‘great sense of humor,’ as you call it,” he replied.

Nora glared at him but spread her legs for him to see how she was touching her clit as he hiked one leg up on the bed to untie his boot and pull it off, then doing the same to the other. Once both were off, he finally pushed his jumpsuit and underwear down, kicking them to the side and then quickly climbing on the bed and slotting his hips between her legs as he pulled her into a deep kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, however, before he was trailing his lips down her body, but not in a straight line – first, he kissed along her clavicle, being sure to dip his tongue into the notch in the middle; then he trailed kisses to her breasts. But when he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, she hissed through her teeth and pushed his face away.

“Too sore,” she grumbled.

“That why you’ve been pushing me away from them for a while?” he asked before kissing between her breasts and starting a trail down to her stomach.

“I guess. They were sore when I was pregnant with Shaun, too.”

══════════════════

Arthur stopped above the spot on her upper belly where she’d accumulated some loose skin and stretch marks; he placed a few kisses there, but she responded by uncomfortably wiggling beneath him before he continued kissing lower, instead going to some of the other stretch marks that littered her abdomen. He placed kisses along them, cherishing their existence and trying to memorize their locations because he knew her stomach would be growing again.

But Nora seemed to realize he was focusing on the marks and wasn’t very happy about it, so her hands started pushing his face away again, instead trying to force him further down toward what was between her legs. Arthur made a low growl, however, before batting her hands away with his own.

“Let me enjoy them.”

“They’re ugly. Stop looking at them.”

“They’re beautiful and they show the changes your body has gone through, especially from your pregnancy. I like them,” he admitted before placing another kiss to one.

Nora crinkled her nose in disagreement, but he conceded after placing one more kiss just above her navel and traveling lower – finally reaching her core. He kissed both thighs a few times, intentionally not touching her between her legs despite how she was clearly flexing her hips and aching for attention there, and the longer he ignored it the more desperate she became. But after a few more teasing kisses, Arthur used one hand to spread her open and the other to slip two fingers into her cunt as he sucked her clit into his mouth at the same time. Nora cried out from the sudden stimulation to both areas, her back arching and hands grabbing fistfuls of the sheets as the Elder slowly started moving his fingers in and out, then easing in a third, stretching her wider while he simultaneously sucked harder on her clit and flicked his tongue against the nub as it was between his lips.

It didn’t take long for her to come undone – then again, it never did with him.

“Fuck, Arthur, I’m gonna cum,” she moaned.

His mouth pulled away for a second, replaced by his thumb rubbing fast circles, but only long enough to give her a sharp command. “Eyes on me,” he ordered, and she quickly looked down to meet his gaze; and just as she did, he returned his mouth to her clit, sucking it even harder between his lips at the same time he crooked his fingers inside her, pressing the pads against the bundle of nerves.

Her body jolted upward. “Fuck, baby,” she breathed, and it was mixed with a high-pitched moan. “Ohh, I’m coming. Ohhh, god. Ohhhhhh, fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming. _Mmmm,_ shit, fuckfuck _fuckfuckfuck.”_ She was grinding herself against his face despite it probably doing nothing extra for her, but he kept sucking on her clit and fingering her, helping her ride her orgasm and drawing it out much longer than she seemed to anticipate – judging by the way her eyes rolled up and her head fell back. “Oh, god, Arthur. Who the fuck taught you to do all this?”

The Elder could only make a slight laugh against her, the noise vibrating her clit and causing her to gasp and try to push him away since the sensitivity started in. He pulled away at that, but as if she knew what he was about to do – then again, he did it every time he fingered her – she reached down and gently took his wrist, slipping the three digits he’d had buried in her cunt just moments ago into her mouth and sucking them clean. Arthur couldn’t help but watch her and let out a low noise that rumbled in his chest; and her eyes were watching him the entire time, too.

When Nora released his fingers from her mouth, his body shifted so his hips were flush with hers and he leaned down to kiss her tenderly as one of his hands disappeared between them. He lined himself up and slowly started pushing in, leaning on one forearm, and then both as he rocked his hips back and forth to ease himself into her. It’d been a while since they’d had sex, after all, and despite how he was just fingering her, she was still _tight._ Nora was making soft noises against his lips and he devoured every sound she made; and once he was hilted, he remained still to let her adjust as she was nearly panting against his lips.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly before he began pressing soft kisses to her jaw, giving her a chance to breathe.

She nodded her head. “Yes, sir.”

Arthur _purred_ against her throat and started making short, slow thrusts, garnering a small gasp from her – so he stuck with that at first before slightly picking it up; but he never went fast. Instead, he kept his thrusts slow – mostly – and just made them deep. He’d pull out nearly all the way before thrusting back in hard enough to make her tits just barely jostle from the force, but it was nowhere near actually being rough. He’d even shifted her hips and the way he was pushing in to get a better angle, ensuring he could get as deep as possible while also hitting that bundle of nerves inside her – and the moment she made a high-pitched noise that was also like a gasping moan, he knew he’d hit the mark.

Her hands were curled around his biceps and he found he could only thread his fingers into her hair on one hand, the other clenching the bedsheets as he tried to remain at the same pace, coaxing out those same noises from her. And when Nora tipped her head back while her mouth opened to let out a moan, he took that chance to go for her throat, placing small bites to the column that weren’t hard enough to hurt or bruise but were enough to cause a slight sting.

“Talk to me,” she whispered; he could only laugh against her neck.

“I’m trying to be gentle with you, Nora. I don’t think talking dirty is going to—”

“It doesn’t have to be dirty. I just—I just want to hear your voice.”

Arthur stopped thrusting at that point, pulling his head back so he could see her face. She met his gaze while he tried to figure out what she wanted because the only type of talk he’d ever really used during sex was, well, extremely dirty – _how does my cock feel? Cum for me, pet. Be a good girl._ – so what else could he even do?

“I love the way you sound. I just want to hear you talk,” she said quietly.

Maxson’s eyebrows furrowed as he just slightly cocked his head to the side. Was she wanting him to compliment her? Did she want praise? He praised her often, especially during sex, but he wasn’t sure that was the type of praise she was looking for. However, he must have been taking too long to figure it out because she just shook her head while her cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Forget it, I’m sorry.”

But his lips met hers again in another kiss, one he held for a few seconds; when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. “You are so beautiful, Nora,” he said quietly, and he watched as her cheeks turned more red than pink while she gave him a sheepish grin at the same time.

So, that was what she wanted. Alright, he could work with that; and he’d see how far he could take it, too.

The Elder began thrusting again, keeping the pace slow, steady, and deep as his face went back to her throat, kissing and licking on the column and making her moan. “Such a good girl for me,” he purred; but she huffed in annoyance, which he took to mean that wasn’t what she was looking for. Okay, maybe that went too far – too dirty. He could fix it. “My good girl,” he corrected as he placed a kiss to her collarbone. “My girl.” The tip of his tongue dipped into the notch of her clavicle and the low moan that came from her told him he was doing better.

He pushed into her a little rougher, making her body jerk up the bed as she let out a quick exhale with the force and tipped her head back, but he immediately went back to the slow movements. His lips found hers again, but she only let him kiss her briefly before she broke it to speak quietly against him. “Let me on top,” she whispered.

Normally, he would have rolled them over without even pulling out, but he wanted to be gentle with her – he wanted to cherish her and show her how much she meant to him; because this type of sex was new. Arthur had never been a slow and sensual lover – he’d always been fast and rough and brutal and demanding, one to make whomever he was fucking scream and beg and writhe in pleasure. He couldn’t even remember a time when he’d fucked like this before, not including when he’d taken her gently after she’d demanded he hurt her. That was… well, a different situation. That was something she needed – not something they both wanted.

But she was enjoying this pace – and he’d fuck her like this for the rest of their lives if that’s what she wanted.

══════════════════

When he slipped out of her, Nora whined at how empty she felt and how cold her body became after he pulled away, and she almost regretted telling him to let her on top. He usually rolled them over himself, though, but now he was being gentle as if he thought of her as fragile, like she might break, or he might hurt their unborn child if he was too rough. Nate was the same way when she was pregnant with Shaun, but at least he knew she wasn’t going to break when she was only one month along.

This was ridiculous. And annoying.

“Arthur,” she huffed as she shifted to get on her knees. He hadn’t gone to his back but instead was leaning against the wall; she straddled his hips and one of his hands placed on her thigh while the other went between their bodies, holding his cock upright so he could let her sink down onto it. And when she did, she let out a long, quiet moan as her eyes closed and her head tipped back; but she didn’t move once their hips were locked, instead deciding to finish scolding him first. “You don’t have to treat me so delicately. I’m only one month pregnant, you know.”

When he didn’t respond, she finally looked back to him, only to see that adorable, lopsided smile stretched across his face; it made her crinkle her eyebrows and purse her lips. “What are you smiling at?” she asked.

Rough hands slid up her waist, just barely brushing the sides of her breasts, which, she had to admit, felt good; before he slid one up to her hair and grabbed a fistful of it, though not as hard as usual, and gently tugged so her head tipped back again. His lips went to her throat as she gasped from the tug and he left open-mounted kisses up and down the column, which she could only respond by rocking her hips back and forth, slowly riding him. He made a quiet noise against her skin.

“You didn’t answer me,” she whispered.

She felt him smile against her. “You seem to think I’m not enjoying treating you this way.”

“I know this isn’t what you’re used to. You don’t have to be so gentle. I can take it.”

“Mm. I know you can. But I _want_ to be gentle right now.” His lips were trailing down to her collarbone again where he started leaving small, soft bites that were nowhere near hard enough to bruise but did leave slight red marks, beginning on the left side and ending on the right – from one end of her clavicle to the other.

Nora sighed and reached a hand between their bodies, brushing her fingers against her clit – but he gently grabbed her arm and pulled it away, replacing her fingers with his and rubbing quick circles along the engorged nub with his thumb at the same time his mouth pressed against hers, pulling her into another deep kiss.

It wasn’t long until her legs were shaking on either side of him as she was moaning into the kiss, her hips still rocking back and forth. He broke their lips apart but kept them close together, and as he spoke, she could feel his lips moving with each word.

“There you go, love. Cum for me.”

Arthur’s dirty talk often sent her over the edge – he always knew the right things to say, _especially_ the dirtiest stuff, and now was no different even when it wasn’t so dirty. Her head fell back as she moaned his name, her hips grinding down onto him a little harder as she kept up her movements, feeling his cock buried deep in her as he kept rubbing her clit. She felt his mouth against her throat again, placing bites once more but this time a bit harder.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he purred. “I love the way you look when you cum.”

Oh, god.

He was a quick learner.

“Arthur,” she breathed, and the arm that had been wrapped around her lower back only unwrapped enough to put his hand on her ass, fingers splayed so he could grope one of the cheeks. Her hands moved back so they were placed on his thighs, her chest being pushed up toward his face.

But he wanted her attention back. “Eyes on me,” he ordered, though it was softer than usual. She tilted her head down to look at him, but he quickly met her with a kiss. It was brief and he soon spoke against her lips. “I want you to cum for me one more time before I get back on top.”

Oh, fuck.

Nora nodded her head and bit her lower lip. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

His hand went back between her legs, thumb rubbing fast circles on her clit as his other one was helping her rock back and forth on him by holding onto her ass. Per usual, it didn’t take long at all to get her trembling over him, and the hand on her ass started pulling her hips up and pushing them back down so his cock was slightly sliding in and out of her while his thumb began rubbing faster circles and using a bit more pressure. His lips pressed firmly against hers as came around him, moaning into the kiss, and he devoured the sounds.

And when she finished riding it out, he wrapped one arm around her back and used the other to balance himself as he shifted their bodies to lay her on her back again, his own above her, but his cock still buried in her cunt. He remained still at first and just kissed her slow and deep for a few moments, one of her hands sliding up into his hair while the other cupped his neck.

But it was clear he couldn’t wait much longer and soon began to move; his thrusts were a bit rougher than before, but it was still nowhere near how they were used to fucking – they were still deep, though, and he’d found a good angle to hit that bundle of nerves once again, making her body tense beneath him as her legs wrapped around his waist.

Arthur’s hands found hers, prying them away from his body and lacing their fingers together as he pinned them above her head, both of their arms nearly stretched out fully while he kept fucking her. Their faces remained close, and he even started speeding up his thrusts a little – it was still slow but he it was rougher than he started out with; pulling out slowly and pushing in roughly, even though it wasn’t that rough, anyway. And he couldn’t help that; he needed a little more in order to get off, and she understood. This was nothing like what he was used to.

══════════════════

Nora was exhaling breathy moans and it was helping heat coil in his lower belly much quicker than he thought it would. Arthur pressed his forehead against hers, his fingers lacing tighter against her knuckles as they remained pinned to the bed; he could feel her tightening around him and he could only let out a low moan from deep in his chest as he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Nora,” he whispered, out of breath from when he’d started thrusting a bit harder, brows furrowed as he tightly shut his eyes, “I’m close.”

“Look at me,” she ordered, and he found himself _obeying_ her command and opening his eyes, shifting his body so he was leaning up more in order to meet her gaze. “I want you to look at me while you cum inside me.”

Arthur let out a low moan at her words before adjusting his positioning, then fucking her harder – though the thrusts were still slow, for the most part. He was still slowly pulling out and roughly pushing back in, but now their hips were lightly smacking together and forcing her body to jerk up the bed a little from each thrust he made; they both exhaled with each thrust, as well, though hers had slight moans in them. 

And when he came – he didn’t stop fucking her, nor did he break eye contact. Instead, he kept going, feeling her cunt tightening around him, telling him she was close, and he was _determined_ to make her cum one more time.

But, _fuck,_ even as her pussy clenched around him when she tipped over the edge, he was pretty sure he was still coming, coaxing another moan from him and an even louder one from her that involved a few expletives combined with his name. After he worked her through her orgasm, he wasn’t sure if he was _still_ pushing through his own or if it was just the afterglow that was so goddamn good, but he couldn’t stop fucking her.

Well, at least until the sensitivity set in for them both. He bottomed out as he was breathing heavily, eyes having rolled upward and lids closed sometime between when he started coming and when he stopped coming, though he still wasn’t even sure _when_ that was. He felt Nora squeeze his hands, reminding him she was still pinned, but he didn’t let go – he wasn’t sure he could really move just yet.

She leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss and he returned it, trailing after her as she slowly went back down so he was then leaned on his forearms, finally releasing her hands. But when they broke apart, panting, foreheads pressed together as they breathed each other’s air with their eyes closed while basking in the afterglow of such an intimate moment, Nora whispered a quiet question.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Time seemed to freeze as Arthur was caught off guard, still in his moment of bliss when he was asked such a huge question before giving an immediate answer – an answer he hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being allowed to think on. If he’d been thinking rather than basking in the afterglow of his orgasm and sex with Nora, he would have been able to stop himself before answering with the first word he could think of – especially with something he wasn’t even sure was the right answer.

He panicked.

Immediately, Arthur’s eyes snapped open and he saw a familiar expression on her face; it wasn’t panic, more like surprise. Quickly, he pulled away from her, but her hands grabbed his biceps, slipping down to his forearms as he continued to move since she couldn’t get a good grasp on his sweat-laden skin.

“Arthur,” she said quietly, and he just shook his head as he pulled himself away and off the bed. Nora sat up then, his cum seeping out of her from between her thighs, a little dripping onto the sheets – and while he normally would have enjoyed the sight and maybe even would have pushed it back into her, he couldn’t focus on it now. Instead, he just shook his head again and went to grab his underwear. “Arthur,” she said again, this time with a sharper tone. But that didn’t work on him; it never did.

“I have to get back to work,” he mumbled; but they both knew that was a lie – it was nearly 2200. Everyone was asleep.

“Arthur, please,” she said quietly. “Please don’t leave.”

The Elder was pulling his jumpsuit on then and only managed to get it up to his hips before Nora was in front of him, her naked body clashing with his half-clothed one. One of her hands threaded fingers into his chest hair and the other cupped his jaw.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything, I just…” She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down to his chest as he stood still, jaw tense while he waited for her to finish. Her hands went to his holotags, fiddling with the metal and running her fingers over the spot that had a light blue glow. “Do you remember the night on the forecastle?” she asked, glancing up at him.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer. This entire situation was uncomfortable and all he could do to keep himself from fleeing was stare down at her and wait for her to finish what she wanted to say so he could leave the room and calm himself down somewhere else – somewhere away from her.

But she didn’t need him to answer, anyway.

“You asked if I loved you and I said no. I wasn’t lying then; I still don’t think I loved you at that point, but I knew I did care for you. A lot. But the past week and a half has given me a lot of time to think about my life. About Shaun and Nate and you. About where I want to go and where I want to be. About how I feel about you.” Her fingers were back in his chest hair again, both hands threading into it. His mouth felt dry and he wanted to escape this fucking room. “I asked if you loved me because I was afraid to tell you I did first. I was worried you’d panic and run away from me, but I guess I didn’t consider that it might catch you off guard and you’d just answer whatever at the time, even if it wasn’t true.”

Arthur’s jaw tensed and he let out a long breath, but she wouldn’t look at him and instead was staring at his holotags again. One hand stayed in his chest hair while the other allowed her fingers to run over the metal just like before. She was keeping herself occupied as she stood before him, vulnerable and open, waiting for him to tell her it was alright and that he wasn’t leaving.

But he couldn’t tell her those things because he wanted to get away so he could breathe; he felt like he was fucking suffocating. And yet, at the same time, he couldn’t leave her; he knew if he left, she’d get upset – and he didn’t want to upset her. Not like that.

But he still needed time to himself to think.

One hand raised to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up so she’d look at him. He placed a gentle and brief kiss to her lips, knowing that no matter how he worded it, she’d take it negatively, but he had to say it one way or another – so he tried to do it as delicately as possible. “I need time to think before I say anything else, so I’m going to shower. I’ll be out soon, and we can talk about it after. Okay?”

Nora furrowed her eyebrows and he could see exactly what he expected – she thought she’d fucked up and was now upset. But he was the one who’d fucked up. Still, she nodded her head without another word and instead turned to go back to the bed. Arthur sighed, however, before rubbing a hand down his face and turning to the shower – he just hoped he didn’t make a mistake by leaving her alone.

══════════════════

The vaultie laid on the bed on her side, facing the wall, listening to the water run in the bathroom as Arthur showered. She was worrying and panicking, thinking she’d said the wrong things, that he was angry, and she’d caught him off guard, that he might not want to see her for the rest of the night. It was terrifying.

And he was taking a _long_ shower, too; Nora wanted to go in there just to get it over with – to confront him and tell him to stop being a child and just talk it over. But if there was one thing she’d learned from Nate, it was that some people needed time to gather their thoughts before speaking; and her late husband and Arthur were both that type of person. So, she let him think and think and think, and just when she began to wonder if he’d accidentally drowned himself in there or cut a hole through the wall to jump out of the Prydwen butt ass naked, the water turned off.

She could hear him shuffling around before he pulled the door open – only having shut it most of the way but not fully since he probably didn’t want her to feel like she was locked out – and then padded over to the bed.

But she knew that sound.

Those were _wet_ footsteps.

Nora narrowed her eyes at the wall. “Don’t you fucking da—”

Her growled warning was cut off before she could finish it as Arthur pounced on her, water dripping from his naked body all over her own and the bed. She tried to push him away, but he grabbed her hands, using his thighs to roll her onto her back as he straddled her hips, then pinned her arms beneath his knees. 

They locked eyes for a second as she glared at him, feeling how the water from his legs was already seeping onto her and making her so fucking _uncomfortable._ But he slowly reached a hand up to his hair, her gaze following it as it went to the brown locks that were flopped over to one side of his head and _dripping_ with water. He hadn’t even bothered to squeeze the water from his hair—oh. 

_Oh, no._

“Don’t,” she warned, but he kept his eyes on her as he slowly grabbed a fistful of his hair without squeezing. “Arthur, you’d better not.” The Elder leaned forward then, his head right over hers, and his free hand went to grab her jaw so she couldn’t turn away. She tried to bite at his hand but there was no luck. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

He squeezed his hair and water just splashed all over her face as she wiggled beneath him, trying to get away from it – she couldn’t even turn her head away!

Fucking bastard.

“Arthur!” she yelled through some of the water as she tried to free her arms to be able to push him away; but nothing worked. Instead, he used the hand on her chin to tip her head back, the drops sliding off her face and onto the pillow beneath her head, and he then leaned down and rubbed his wet beard _all over her fucking neck and throat._

This was the absolute worst.

“I fucking hate you!” Nora snarled as she thrashed beneath him, but he was just moving his wet beard down to her clavicle now. “I’m going to teach our baby how to assassinate you in your sleep, you bastard!” The new threat got a response but not the sort of response she wanted – instead, he tipped his head down more so his hair flopped toward his face and he could rub that on her instead of his beard, leaving behind wet skin and an irritated vault dweller. “Actually, you know what? I’ll just kill you myself. Do you prefer being thrown into a volcano or fed to a deathclaw?” 

His head went lower now, between her breasts, rubbing the wet hair against her skin still. “Fuck it, I’m just gonna drown your giant ass in the ocean because that would be perfect payba—AAaaAA— _NO!_ Arthur, that is _horrible! The worst! Stop it!”_ He squeezed out more water from a different part of his hair, the liquid pooling between her breasts, and she was ready to _explode._

But he wasn’t stopping and it was driving her _crazy._

“Arthur, please!” she whined, and that made him pause as his eyes flicked up to her, meeting her gaze. “Please, please, please.”

“‘Please‘ what?”

“Please stop torturing me.”

“Torturing you?” The Elder snorted at her choice of words. “This isn’t torture.” A soft kiss was pressed where a puddle of water had accumulated in the dip of skin between her breasts, but she tried to wiggle away.

“I hate it,” the vaultie whined, drawling the last word.

“Hm. Well, how else do I dry off?”

“Maybe use a fucking towel, you walnut.” Immediately, she regretted her words because he tilted his head to the side and started rubbing his wet hair on her again, making her squeal and thrash beneath him once more. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m sorry! No! Stop! I’ll do anything, please!”

“Anything, huh?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, anything. Just please stop rubbing your fucking wet hair on me, oh my god. It’s the _worst.”_

A grin crossed his face as he moved back up her body placing kisses along her chest, throat, jaw, and chin, then acting as if he was going to kiss her lips but pulling away before he did. She shot him a glare.

“Ask me again,” he whispered, but Nora only furrowed her eyebrows. Ask him what again?

“… Which way you prefer me to kill you?”

“No, before that.”

Nora stared at him for a long time, trying to determine what else she’d asked; surely, he couldn’t be talking about—no, she must have asked him something else and just didn’t remember. But the longer she thought, the more certain she was she hadn’t.

“Do you love me?”

He gave her that stupid, adorable, lopsided smile that most people never got to see but it always made her melt on the inside. “Yes,” he answered.

Oh, god, she felt like she was about to just sink into the bed and fall through the entire ship. Her face flushed as she looked back and forth between his eyes, studying him, searching for whether he was playing a game or some sort of trick – but she knew Arthur didn’t do shit like that. At least not when it came to this sort of topic.

“Say it.” Her order was quiet, and she knew he’d never actually obey if he didn’t want to.

One of his hands raised to cup the side of her jaw and she leaned her face into his palm, almost nuzzling it, as she stared up at him. He remained silent and she was beginning to think perhaps she’d pushed him too far, too fast – but when he leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips, holding it for only a few seconds before pulling back to make eye contact, the vault dweller realized he was just taking his time – and probably drawing it out because she’d called him a walnut and he wanted her to suffer for it.

“I love you,” he said softly.

She could die.

Yeah, she was probably going to die right here.

This was a good place to die, right?

Nora searched his eyes again, though, flicking back and forth between them, looking for something more than if he was just playing a trick on her – but rather if he actually _meant_ it. Arthur didn’t have a handle on his emotions and feelings, they both knew that – and she worried maybe he was just saying it because he knew that was what she wanted to hear. She hoped he did, in fact, love her, but she knew it was possible he was saying it just because he knew it’d make her happy; and now that she was pregnant, he was likely going to do anything to keep her happy.

But right now, Nora didn’t care much about whether he was lying or telling the truth – because she _did_ want to hear it. Those words made her feel good, especially after all the bullshit that had been happening lately; so whether he actually loved her or not and whether he was saying it just because he knew that was what she wanted to hear or not, she’d deal with it later. 

For now, those three words made her happy, regardless of how true or untrue they really were.


	54. Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur didn’t even know what love was – was it how he’d felt about Sarah? Where he missed her when she died and felt close to her when she was alive? How he wanted to be by her side all the time and even admitted he had a crush on her after she’d taught him how to kill a man by stabbing him in the kidneys?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating for a few days. Had a bit of an issue with my sleep schedule.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is for those of you who were asking about whether Arthur actually meant it when he told Nora he loved her or not. Looking at you, zas.

_Do you love me?_

_Yes._

_Do you love me?_

_Yes._

_Do you-you love me?_

_Yesyesyesyesyesyes._

Arthur banged his forehead against the cheap tile of the shower wall while cursing beneath his breath, following it up with a heavy sigh leaving his lungs. The sounds he made and caused were masked by the showerhead as it spat water all along his back, the lukewarm water doing nothing to relax the ache in his muscles nor the ache in his chest.

_Arthur, please. Please don’t leave._

One of his hands raised and ran through his hair, fingers trailing down to the back of his neck to meet the chain that held his holotags; he hadn’t bothered to take them off for his shower. Hell, he’d almost forgotten to take off his damn clothes – well, what little he’d put back on – before retreating into the stall because all he could even think about was escaping; escaping the situation and getting away from _her._ Never before had he wanted to get away from Nora so much – and he hated feeling this way. He never wanted to be separated from her, _especially_ now that he’d finally gotten her back after she was gone for an entire week with the Institute, where no one knew if she was alive or dead, and _especially_ now that she was pregnant with his child.

But right now, that was all he could think about: getting away from her; putting as much distance between them as possible. And yet, he couldn’t even convince himself to leave the _room,_ so instead he was stuck taking a shower and not even closing the fucking door all the way.

_I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything, I just…_

What kind of fucking question was that, anyway? _’Do you love me?’_ And why would she even think to ask him it at that moment? Why would she think to ask him if he loved her right when he’d finished coming and was still in the high of his orgasm, knowing he’d give whatever answer first came to his mind, whether it was true or not?

And it was such a loaded question, anyway. Did he love her? First of all, what even _was_ love? Second of all, how the fuck should he know? Arthur couldn’t even determine if he was _happy,_ let alone if he _loved_ someone or, hell, some _thing._ Did she expect him to just know the answer to that without even being given time to contemplate the question?

_Do you remember the night on the forecastle?_

He needed to calm down. His anger was spiking, and it was spiking _fast._

Or was that panic again?

Whatever.

Breathe in. Breathe out. He could figure this out – and if not, he could figure out how to make it work. But figuring it out on such short notice seemed… well, unlikely, and if he was in the shower for too long, she’d probably come in to check on him to make sure he hadn’t drowned himself somehow, and that would only make things worse. Still, he needed to try.

_You asked if I loved you and I said no. I wasn’t lying then; I still don’t think I loved you at that point, but I knew I did care for you. A lot._

But did he love her? Did he love Nora? Arthur didn’t even know what love was – was it how he’d felt about Sarah? Where he missed her when she died and felt close to her when she was alive, despite how young he was and how much older she was than him? How he wanted to be by her side all the time, and even admitted he had a crush on her after she’d taught him how to kill a man by stabbing him in the kidneys? 

That was all before he’d stopped feeling, though. Before he’d became… well, _this._ Whatever _this_ was.

_But the past week and a half has given me a lot of time to think about my life. About Shaun and Nate and you. About where I want to go and where I want to be. About how I feel about you._

The way he felt for Sarah was different than the way he felt for Nora, of course; with the vault dweller, he longed for her touch. His chest ached when he was around her and it ached worse when he wasn’t. He wanted to protect her in every sense of the word and never let her out of his sight, because the world was a dangerous and treacherous place, and he didn’t want her to come into harm’s way. Fuck, he wanted to stay with her forever; to go to sleep with her in his arms and wake up the same way. Arthur wanted to marry her and start a family – to raise their children together and watch them grow and excel and become great leaders within the Brotherhood.

But was that _love?_

_I asked you if you loved me because I was afraid to tell you I did first._

But what was there to even compare it to, other than how he’d felt for Sarah so long ago, when he was just a child? He thought back to when he’d nearly begged Nora to stay before she’d left for the Institute – when he was reminded of Plato’s _The Symposium,_ and how it presented the story about soulmates; where humans originally had four arms, four legs, and a single head made of two faces, but were split in half by the gods, left to search and long for their other half. When presented with that concept, Arthur would say Nora was his soul mate. If there was anyone in the world he’d see at his side, who’d tame the wild beast in his chest, who’d make him _want_ to change every fiber of his being just for them – it was Nora Parker.

Arthur had adapted himself to her needs; he’d adapted the way he had sex to how she preferred it and had even taken her gently not even twenty minutes ago; he’d adapted how he comforted her when she was mourning her husband and coping with the fact of who her son was and what would inevitably happen to him; he’d adapted how he handled situations on the battlefield specifically because she wanted less bloodshed. The Elder had molded himself to what she wanted and needed him to be, and he’d never done that with anyone before.

And he wanted her to be happy – he knew he’d do anything for her, that she could have requested he part the skies and the seas and he’d try his fucking hardest just to grant her request. He’d drop everything just to see her smile, just to hear her laugh, just to know she was safe and sound and fucking _happy,_ even if it wasn’t with him.

But was that _love?_

_I was worried you’d panic and run away from me, but I guess I didn’t even consider that it might catch you off guard and you’d just answer whatever at the time, even if it wasn’t true._

He didn’t know and he didn’t want to know. Honestly, he didn’t think he even _needed_ to know. Right now, Nora was one month pregnant with his child and they had a long way to go before the Institute was defeated; assuming she didn’t miscarry – because pregnancies going to full-term were rare in the wasteland, medical care was always lacking, and stress was a big factor in postwar lives – he’d eventually have a very pregnant woman on his hands alongside a battle with the Institute.

And the last thing he needed was to be at odds with that very pregnant woman.

Arthur didn’t know if he loved her; he didn’t even know what love was, really. But he knew he wanted to make her happy, and if telling her what she wanted to hear until he could figure it out was necessary, then so be it.

_Ask me again._

_Do you love me?_

_Yes._

_Say it._

_I love you._

_Say it._

_I love you._

_Say it._

_I lovelovelovelove youyouyouyouyou._


	55. Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora opened her mouth wide to take him in, because she was a _good girl_ and _good girls_ did what they were told to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve deprived you all of smut for a while other than the fluffy smut, so have this like 10k word chapter of Arthur domming the fuck out of Nora. 
> 
> Enjoy.

“Absolutely not.”

“With all due respect, Elder Maxson, we need whatever information we can get from the Institute terminals _and_ we need Dr. Li to help with the project. The officers are all aware of Knight Parker’s relation to the Director and how he’s given her free access to, well, _everything,_ so I don’t think we can afford to squander this opportunity.” Ingram huffed in irritation as she ran a metal-clad hand through her hair. “And considering the Director has allowed her to come and go as she pleases, I believe this is more of _her_ decision than it is yours.” 

The proctor shifted from foot to foot, the whirring of her power armor filling the room as she remained close to the door of Arthur’s quarters; she’d approached them while the two were alone, mentioning the necessity of using a network scanner on one of the Institute terminals to capture as much data as possible, as well as recruiting Dr. Madison Li for the project of fixing Liberty Prime.

But Arthur clearly wasn’t happy with her proposal – or, rather, he wasn’t happy with the fact that _Nora_ would be the one going. “It _is_ my decision, Proctor, so long as she is part of the Brotherhood and so long as she is carrying my chi—” He stopped himself and snapped his jaw shut, seeming to realize the words he was saying just as he was saying them.

 _”Arthur!”_ Nora hissed as she shot him a glare.

Ingram couldn’t help it when her eyebrows immediately raised in surprise; she wasn’t aware Nora was pregnant – hell, _no one_ knew aside from the two of them and Cade. Well, and now the proctor.

Maxson pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “That information does not leave this room, Proctor. Do I make myself clear?” The threat in his tone was obvious, though Ingram didn’t need to hear it nor be asked that question to value their privacy. She wasn’t one for gossip.

“Of course, Elder,” she replied with a nod of her head. Her eyes then shifted to Nora, but the vault dweller was staring at the table as if she were trying to will herself out of the conversation “Are… congratulations in order?”

That must have caught them off guard, because Nora glanced up at her before sharing a glance with Arthur, who then nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “It was… unexpected, but a good surprise, nonetheless.”

In other words, no, congratulations weren’t in order – because Arthur just lied through his teeth and he did it _horribly._ Ingram had seen plenty of pregnant soldiers to know when an unwanted pregnancy happened and there was nothing that could even be done about it. But she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at them, glancing back and forth between the two a few times though Arthur was the only one who even saw the action.

“Uh huh. Sure. Well, if either of you need to talk, I’m always here to listen and offer life-changing advice. Because, you know, I’m not allowed to leave the Prydwen or the airport.”

Arthur shot her a warning glare, but she could only grin in return.

══════════════════

Ingram and Arthur had left the room a few minutes ago, leaving Nora alone – but the only thing she could do was absently flip the network scanner holotape around between her fingers, staring off at the wall and thinking about what she needed to do. She’d insert the tape, gather the information, wait for it to do its job, and then take it out and hide it. The task was supposed to be simple. Easy-peasy lemon squeezy.

But there was this sinking feeling in her gut about it that she couldn’t quite place nor get rid of.

Arthur reentered the room alone, his eyes meeting Nora’s once the door was shut behind him. He remained silent as he went to his usual chair and shrugged off his battle coat, hanging it on the back before taking a seat. In turn, Nora was also quiet, but she watched him – watched how he leaned back in his chair and spread his massive legs, feet planted firmly on the ground. But he usually only did that when—

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly, eyeing him skeptically but trying not to be obvious about it. “Long enough not to rouse suspicion, but… I also want to go back to Sanctuary for a day or two. I want to visit…” she let her voice trail off as her gaze fell to the table.

Arthur made a noise of acknowledgement before he fell quiet, and she couldn’t help but glance over at his legs again – they were still spread, feet planted flat on the ground; and, _fuck,_ she could never get over the fact he had thick thighs that went perfect with his ass. Nora definitely appreciated his ass.

When her eyes flicked up to his face, though, she found he was staring right at her.

Oh. Shit.

Why did she always get caught?

Her face flushed and she didn’t even know _why._ It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever appreciated the way he looked before – and it wasn’t like he hadn’t ever _caught_ her staring at him like that before; and, shit, she wasn’t the only one who looked at him, either. People of all genders and ages and ranks appreciated Arthur’s looks because he was fucking gorgeous whether he realized it or not — but she was fairly certain he did realize it.

“Go lock the door,” he ordered, and she bit her lower lip before standing and moving to the door, clicking the lock. When she turned and started heading back to him, he held up his hand – palm flat, facing her; she stopped. “Crawl.”

“Wait, what?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed. Did she hear him correctly? Maybe he’d said something else.

“You heard me, pet. I want you to crawl to me. On your hands and knees.”

Maybe it’d just been a while since he’d actually given her orders like that or maybe it was just because he’d never told her to crawl across the floor to him before, but Nora just stood there, lips slightly parted as she stared at him with confusion written on her face. Was he fucking _serious?_

Apparently, he was.

“Each second you aren’t on your fucking hands and knees is one spanking, Nora.” His tone was low and husky and _threatening,_ but she still hesitated – well, at least until he started fucking _counting_ like a goddamn parent. “One. Two.”

She dropped to her hands and knees by the time he finished saying _’two’_ and started crawling toward him, hearing him hum in approval when she finally obeyed. When the vaultie was finally at his legs and staring up at him – his entire body looked huge from where she was at, and Arthur was already huge – he reached a hand down and threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling her forward so her cheek was resting against his upper thigh.

“Mm. Good girl,” he praised, and she could only grin up at him, the praise making her feel warm inside.

One of her hands went to his thigh, sliding up to his groin to touch him – but the hand in her hair grabbed a fistful of the red locks and his free hand roughly grabbed her wrist, making her gasp and whine from the pain.

“I didn’t say you could touch me, pet,” he warned, “That’s three swats now.”

Nora bit her lower lip as he forced her to look up at him. “Sorry, sir,” she whispered, and he released her wrist but kept ahold of her hair still.

His now-free hand reached down to wrap around her throat, holding but not squeezing, as he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss; his question, however, caught her off guard.

“What is the safe word, Nora?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking back and forth between those light blue hues. “The safe word?”

“Yes. What is it?”

“Cram.”

“And if you can touch me but cannot speak, what do you do?”

“Tap you three times.”

“Good girl,” he crooned before kissing her again.

She returned it, purring a soft noise against his lips because she was a _good girl_ and being a good girl made her _happy._ When the kiss broke, though, he kept their faces near while his hand loosened in her hair.

“We’re going to try something different this time,” he said quietly, “I’m going to restrain your hands and cover your mouth, but I’ll give you something that will be in place of a safe word. It’ll be something you can drop, knock over, or throw depending on where we’re at and it’ll cause a loud noise that’ll get my attention if you need me to stop. Do you understand?” 

Nora nodded her head. “I think so.”

“It should make more sense when you see how it works. But for now,” his thumb stroked over her pulse point, “You need to suck my cock.”

She licked her lower lip. “Yes, sir,” she said as he leaned back in his chair and spread his legs a bit more. Nora slotted herself between his thighs and reached forward, undoing the latch on the flap of his suit and revealing his hard cock that was straining inside his underwear; and when she uncovered it and pulled it out, she could almost feel her mouth water at the sight.

Both sets of blue eyes locked onto one another as she pulled his foreskin back before slowly dragging the flat of her tongue from the base of his cock to the head, trailing along the vein on the underside of it. A low noise rumbled from his chest, encouraging her to continue; she slid the head into her mouth and sucked hard enough that her cheeks caved, her hand stroking him up and down while she only sucked on the tip, teasing him – at least until she slid him all the way in until he was at the back of her throat.

══════════════════

Seeing Nora on her knees for him, the way her lips stretched around his girth, how she always kept eye contact – they were always such sights. Arthur could feel how she’d swirl her tongue along the underside of his shaft when she slid his cock deeper into her mouth and then she’d swirl it around the head when she’d almost slid it all the way out. Sometimes, she’d even use a little bit of teeth, scraping them against the velvety flesh and making him groan because she knew he enjoyed some amount of pain, even when it happened on his groin.

At some point, she’d snaked her hand back into his suit to free his balls from his underwear, playing with and massaging them by rolling them in her palm and around her fingers until she was nearly grabbing the base of his dick with his balls cupped above the skin between her thumb and index finger, putting enough pressure on them that made him groan deep in his chest.

“Such a good girl,” he crooned, and she hummed around him appreciatively, making his legs feel like jelly.

Nora let his balls go and turned her head, pressing the tip of his cock against the inside of her cheek so he could see the bulge from the outside while she stared up at him. The Elder reached one hand down, rubbing his thumb over it lightly before he smacked her cheek a few times right where his cock was on the other side, turning her skin red where he’d struck and making him moan at the sight and feeling, coupled with her low moan from the slaps.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.”

Arthur tightened his hand in her hair, guiding her head down his cock so she was forced to deepthroat him and he felt her swallow as he pressed against the back of her throat. He let her up for air, of course, giving her a few seconds to breathe before he pushed her back down, letting her spit dribble down the base of his cock and onto his groin and balls. She knew by now to breathe through her nose and swallow to avoid being gagged – and if she didn’t do it, then that was her fault, not his.

“You like sucking my cock, pet?” he asked in a low growl as he pulled her off him, a few strands of saliva following and connecting her lips to the head of his dick. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, breaking them, before their eyes met – and he could see how some tears had formed in the corners of hers.

“Yes, sir,” she said as a mischievous grin spread across her lips.

Arthur leaned in and roughly kissed her, but as he tried to pull away, her teeth clamped onto his lower lip and she tugged. The moment he was free, however, his hand struck her cheek; it wasn’t very hard, but it was hard enough to sting and for the skin he’d connected with to turn red.

“Don’t. Bite.”

Immediately after, however, he stilled, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers, waiting for any reaction or sign that he should stop or slow down or back up; but she just licked her lower lip and tried to suppress a grin from spreading across her face.

“Sorry, sir,” she said, her eyes glancing down to his lips again as if she wanted to take another chomp.

Nora was always trouble.

Their faces remained close and the hand in her hair slowly slid to her throat, but just as he leaned in, closing the distance between their mouths – she leaned in just the same, ready to kiss him again and likely try to take another shot at biting – he used the hand on her throat to shove her backward, making her topple onto her ass. “Strip,” he ordered, then leaned back in his chair and slowly began stroking his cock.

Nora glared at him as she landed on her rear, obviously irritated at how he’d pushed her away rather than kissed her, but she obeyed and stood, slowly pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the side, then doing the same with her jeans – she didn’t even bother with socks or shoes in the room, claiming she hated wearing them. She was left in her underwear then, but Arthur wasn’t even looking at her body, too busy keeping eye contact. The vaultie reached behind her, unclasping her bra and sliding it off her arms, tossing that to the side, as well; and then she turned around so her back was to him before she bent over, sliding her underwear off and baring her cunt to him in the process.

Arthur _moaned._

“Very good girl,” he praised, and she stood back up and turned to face him again, now completely naked. Arthur took a moment to slowly look her over, appreciating every curve of her form and change her body had went through since he’d first met her, as well as the obvious changes throughout her life. Just like the first time he’d looked her over, however, Nora’s face turned pink and he could only smirk. “Tell me what you want,” he said as he released his cock and began unlacing his boots to kick them off.

“You,” she answered.

“More specific.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That’s it?”

“I want you to make me cum.” Her voice was quiet as if she was embarrassed, but he knew her better than that – she was playing her part as submissive. She’d be pliant now, but she’d show her teeth soon enough because Nora never fully submitted. And that’s how he preferred it.

“And how do you want me to fuck you, pet?” he asked, undoing his uniform now and pushing it down his body, along with his underwear.

“I—I… rough?” she said, though the last word was essentially a question. She seemed unsure how to answer it, and so after he pulled his undershirt off, he approached her. The Elder always towered over her because she was so much smaller – a foot shorter in height and he certainly had more weight on him than she did since he carried a lot of muscle. 

“Mm. Well, here’s what I want,” he said as he reached one hand up to her stomach, slowly trailing the back of his knuckles up her skin, just barely touching her. “I want to tie you up, gag you, and make you scream as I fuck you and fill you with my cum.” He started moving closer to her, but since they were already so close, it just forced her to step back. “I want to control when _you_ cum, and when I finally grant you permission to do so, I want it to be so fucking intense that you’ll be boneless and go stumbling into the Institute tomorrow, still unsteady on your own two legs.” He saw her swallow as she was staring up at him. “How does that sound?”

Nora licked her lower lip before nodding her head. “Yeah,” she said, her voice cracking.

Arthur could only grin. “Yeah?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Lay down on the bed on your back,” he ordered as he turned to move over to the dresser.

══════════════════

When he turned his back to her, Nora’s eyes immediately dropped to his bare ass – _fuck._ The urge to grab or slap it was fucking _extreme,_ but she knew she couldn’t do it – not yet, at least. Not now. She’d been dying to touch his ass since she first laid eyes on it because, goddamn, it was fucking _nice;_ but she knew she had to wait until the right moment.

What could she say? She was an ass person.

And Arthur had a _fine_ one.

The vault dweller laid on the bed on her back, her eyes watching him as he was at one of the dressers, rummaging through a drawer before closing it, and then immediately went to a cabinet, rummaging through one of the drawers there – finally pulling out a rope and bandana. Part of her wanted to ask why he had those two items together in his room but then she remembered this was sort of his thing for a while – and another part of her hoped that bandana had been washed since it was last used.

He approached her on the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he walked toward her, and she couldn’t help but let her eyes drop to watch it.

“Put your hands in front of you,” he ordered, bringing her out of her daze.

She did just that – put her hands together at the wrists in front of her, and he climbed onto the bed on his knees to start tying her wrists up with the scratchy rope. But his cock was so close to her face – _it was so close_ – that she couldn’t resist herself. Nora leaned in and opened her mouth wide enough to catch it as it bobbed with his body’s movements, taking the head between her lips and sucking since that’s all she could reach.

Arthur gasped above her, clearly not expecting it, but immediately let out a deep groan as he stopped tying her wrists for a few moments. His body shifted so he could look down at her and a curse was whispered beneath his breath when she turned her head a bit so his cock was angled down and she could look up at him.

“Such a good girl,” he growled, “Always so fucking enthusiastic about sucking cock, aren’t you?”

Nora hummed around him, trying to move closer so she could take some more of him in, but the angle she was at prevented her from doing so. He shifted a bit closer before he continued tying the knot around her wrists, then had her test it by pulling her hands in different directions and making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose.

But, apparently, her enthusiasm to suck his dick gave him an idea because he pulled himself free from her mouth – which made her whine a little in disappointment – before he lifted her arms to be pressed to the mattress above her head. He then straddled her chest and pressed the tip of his cock against her lips; of course, she opened her mouth wide to take him in, because she was a _good girl_ and _good girls_ did what they were told to do.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his hips slowly moving back and forth so she didn’t have to strain her neck by bobbing her head. But when he leaned forward and started burying more of his cock down her throat, inch by inch more with each thrust, she was unable to swallow as quickly as he was delving, and the awkward angle of how she was laying with it hitting the back of her throat didn’t really allow her to swallow as _easily,_ either, so he just kept gagging her over and over. But, shit, he didn’t seem to mind.

He fucked her face for a bit, and when the Elder let out a low groan atop her, she knew he was close. But she didn’t realize exactly _how close_ since he usually gave her a warning by telling her he was about to cum, so when he spilled down her throat, she choked and gagged on his spend, her body thrashing beneath him as he held her in place with his cock still buried in her mouth and her nose pressed against his groin.

“Swallow it,” he growled, one hand pressing against her forehead and hairline to keep her head still and the other on the metal headboard of the bed as he was leaned forward, holding himself up. “Fucking swallow it, Nora.”

And she tried – she really did. But the angle just didn’t give her much to work with and so when he pulled his cock from her throat to let her finally breathe, she ended up turning her head and coughing up some of his cum onto the bed. It wasn’t that she threw it up but more so that it just _never went down in the first place._

But the second she looked at Arthur, she knew she should have tried harder to swallow.

“My cum doesn’t go to waste, pet,” he said quietly.

“S-Sir?” she managed to whisper through coughs with a hoarse voice, but she already knew what he was about to do. One hand grabbed her jaw as the other used his fingers to scoop up the cum she’d coughed up on the bed.

“I suggest you swallow it like a good girl this time. You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” he asked. The fingers he used to scoop up his cum were held out for her in front of her face; he was probably expecting to have to fight her mouth open.

“No, sir,” she answered before opening her mouth, lolling her tongue out. He seemed pleased as he wiped his cum on her tongue, making sure every bit of it was taken from the blanket before she swallowed it and stuck her tongue out again, making a show of how she’d done what she was supposed to before he released her jaw.

“Good girl,” he praised, then leaned down to kiss her gently. When he pulled away, he kept their faces close while he studied her eyes, looking back and forth between her darker ones as if he was searching for something – and she knew he was; he was looking to make sure she was still okay without asking, though she wished he would just use his fucking words like a goddamn adult.

“I’m alright,” she said quietly before leaning up and kissing him briefly. “I’m enjoying it. I promise.”

══════════════════

Arthur slid off the bed and moved to his desk, grabbing at the liquor bottles he had sitting around and swishing one at a time in search of one that was empty or nearly empty; he did find one that was nearly empty, deciding to down its contents before capping it and carrying it over to the bed. Once there, he held it out in front of Nora’s hands and she took it, a quizzical look on her face.

“Once I gag you, you can no longer use our safe word; and since your hands are tied, you might not be able to touch me. If it comes to the point where you need me to stop, just as you would if you were able to speak or touch, then you will throw the bottle off the bed. It’ll cause a noise loud enough to get my attention, especially if it breaks. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me what you should do.”

“Throw the bottle off the bed if I need you to stop.”

The Elder leaned down then, placing a soft, loving kiss to her lips. “Very good girl,” he crooned, and he watched as a grin spread across her face. He reached over to the bandana, which had been set to the side on the bed as he tied her wrists. “Tell me if it’s too tight. It should not restrict your breathing,” he said as he began fastening it around her head, bundling the bulkier part into her mouth to use as a gag. “Good?” he asked when he finished tying it, and she nodded.

He leaned down again, this time pressing kisses to her jaw as his hand went to her cunt, fingers slipping between her folds and rubbing through her slick but not focusing on her clit nor dipping into her cunt, more just teasingly rubbing along the entire area.

At least until he pulled his hand back and then slapped her pussy with his fingers.

Nora yelped behind the gag and closed her legs around his hand, but he only bit her throat just at her pulse point.

“Open them,” he ordered while his free hand gently guided her arms above her head to get them out of the way and so he’d not be blocking her from being able to throw the bottle if she needed to. Nora whined a bit at his order before slowly opening her legs, and he rewarded her by rubbing gentle circles on her clit, making her sigh with relief.

”Good girl,” he crooned against her throat.

And then he slapped her pussy again, this time a little harder.

She made another yelp, closing her legs around his hand once more and twisting her hips away so she was taking his arm with her, pulling him onto the bed rather than letting him just stand beside it. He climbed onto the mattress on his knees, using his free hand to pull her hips so she was fully laying on her back, legs spread open to let him slot his own hips between her thighs. Arthur’s lips went to her neck, placing bites and kisses to her skin, leaving bruises and hickeys all along her flesh in different places that told anyone and everyone she belonged to him, just as the large bite mark on his throat from last night told those same people he belonged to her.

Nora was making soft noises against the cloth, her eyes closing as she tipped her head back and bared herself to him, submitting. The Elder _relished_ in the sight.

“Mm. You should see yourself,” he growled against her collarbone, having moved down just slightly to place bites along it from left to right, “So submissive, so docile, so _obedient._ What would your Minutemen think of you if they saw you now?” He trailed bite marks down to the skin just between her breasts, where he bit down much harder, leaving a bruise there that coaxed a loud moan from her. “If they knew you crawled across the floor on your hands and knees for the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel—” a trail of gentle kisses was placed along her right breast, leading to her nipple, “—just to get some cock, they might disown you.”

He took her nipple into his mouth and gently sucked on it, but she winced and whimpered beneath him, trying to wiggle away. The sound of a loud tapping noise caught his attention, however, and his eyes looked up to her as he released the now-peaked bud, meeting her darker gaze. She’d tapped the bottle against the metal headboard’s bars — clever, though he’d never expect anything less from her — to get his attention rather than break it, and now she was shaking her head at him. It took a moment before he realized why she was shaking her head, however: because her breasts were sore. She’d said it was an early sign of pregnancy that she also experienced with Shaun, and even being gentle with them was uncomfortable.

Arthur placed those same soft kisses trailing away from her nipple and leading down to her stomach, watching how her head fell back against the mattress again. “I think they’d be ashamed knowing their _General_ was going belly up, giving her body over to the Brotherhood, putting herself in harm’s way just because she wants to fuck. Because she needs cock.”

Nora made a low moan at his words and he couldn’t help but grin before placing a bite to her stomach, being sure it bruised before moving a bit lower and placing yet another bite.

”Or maybe they’d even want to get between your legs themselves; see you as a Commonwealth whore.” His point was accentuated by biting the inside of her thigh as he’d scooted down far enough by then, and she could only moan loudly against the bandana in her mouth. He hadn’t gone this deep into verbal degradation with her before, but she seemed to be enjoying it – he’d just have to make sure he took care of her afterward. This was a new step for her, after all.

“What do you think, _General?_ Think your second-in-command – what was his name? Garvey? – wants to fuck you?” He was using her title in a mocking tone, knowing it would insult her and hurt her, but that was the point. She was clearly enjoying the way it struck. “Think he wants to sink his cock between your legs, deep in your tight cunt? To use you?”

When she made a low growling noise against the gag, he grinned again. His hands hooked beneath her knees, pushing them forward so she was spread open with her hips canted upward, her legs pressed close to her chest. Arthur leaned down then, sucking her clit between his lips as he flicked the tip of his tongue against it, then circled it. The vaultie immediately moaned and arched her back as much as she could, lifting her head to look down at him, only to meet his gaze since he was already peering up at her.

Nora’s entire face was flushed – well, her entire _body_ was flushed, but an even darker color of red bloomed from her chest, up her neck, and into her face, almost hiding the lighter freckles that dotted her skin. 

He released one of her legs though she kept it as close to the same position as best she could without him holding it; and instead, his hand went between her thighs, pushing his ring and middle finger into her cunt and slowly thrusting them in and out as he continued to suck her clit. The vault dweller immediately moaned, letting her head fall back against the bed as she started grinding her hips down toward face the best she could; it was only then he inserted his index finger with the two others and increased the speed at which he was thrusting them. But once he felt her tightening, her body threatening to cum – he pulled away from her, making her whine as she lost the sensation.

“I don’t think he’d satisfy you the way I do. In fact, I don’t think anyone could satisfy you the way I do.” Arthur placed gentle kisses to the inside of her thighs before biting down on one hard enough to bruise, making her groan again. “Because you need special attention, don’t you?” he asked and she just nodded her head before looking back down at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, you need someone who can put you in your place.” He nipped the skin on the inside of her thigh. “Someone who can handle you — tame you.” He let his tongue slide across a spot on her leg before his lips closed over it in a kiss. “Someone who can get you to shut your fucking mouth every once in a while, even if it’s around a dick.” Another nip was made, this time to her outer labia; she jumped and whined. “Someone who knows your body better than you do.” Slow, gentle kisses were placed along her thigh, leading up toward her groin. “And no one knows your body better than me.”

Nora nodded her head again before the Elder went back to eating her pussy, his mouth closing around her clit once more as he pushed his three fingers back into her, but this time he immediately crooked them as he nipped her clit with his teeth, then sucked on it hard. She moaned loudly, arching her back again while her body began to tremble; but just before she came undone, he pulled away again, garnering another whine – an even more desperate one – from her throat.

Arthur began moving up her body, placing bites along her skin as he went. The first bite was on her stomach, just above her navel, “I know every spot that makes you tense up,” followed by another bite just beneath the bruise he’d marked between her breasts, “Every position you love getting fucked in the most,” and then one in the middle of her chest where a large portion of her freckles were. “Every motion that makes you cum over—" he placed a single kiss to her chest, leading up to her collarbone, “—And over—” another kiss, “—And over—” and another kiss, “—Again.” When he reached her clavicle, he bit down just above it, where it led into the column of her throat, before he began trailing kisses up to her ear. “If you were—” kiss, “—To fuck anyone else—” kiss, “—You wouldn’t be as satisfied—” kiss, “—Because you know—” kiss, “—They couldn’t please you—” kiss, “—The way I do.”

══════════════════

Before the war, Nora had never fucked someone who talked the way Arthur did – it was so damn _dirty_ and _sexy;_ and while hearing him be so vocal and say the sort of stuff he did was a new experience for her, it was fucking _incredible._ The man wasn’t just babbling on with nonsense, he was actually saying shit that made her shiver and moan and get even wetter than she already was, even when she didn’t think that was possible. It was just as she suspected that first day they’d met – his charisma extended into the bedroom, but what she didn’t expect was how it was _so fucking dirty._

The Elder pressed a gentle kiss below her ear before shifting up a little and whispering, his voice low and husky. “Face it, pet. I’ve ruined sex for you when it’s with anyone else but me.”

Oh, fuck. He was right. When she’d had sex with MacCready, it was great – it really was – but it wasn’t as good as the sex she had with Arthur; he’d taken the time to learn her body and use what he learned to his advantage. Then again, she and Mac didn’t exactly have that much time together, but still. Arthur gave her the best sex of her life. He fucking ruined sex for her with everyone else. 

Nora moaned again and tipped her head back, baring her throat and submitting to him even more.

“Am I right?” he asked, and she just slightly nodded her head, almost ashamed to admit it, before she felt him grin against her throat.

She could feel his cock pressing against the inside crook of her thigh and she shifted her hips so the head was pressing against her cunt, which she then began grinding against him, trying to get some sort of friction or to get him to push in. But he just pulled back a little and grinned down at her, and she felt a blush creep up her face at the pathetic attempt of getting off despite knowing what she was doing wouldn’t actually do anything for her.

“Mm. You want me to fuck you?” he asked; she nodded. “Say it.”

Nora narrowed her eyes at him. How the fuck did he expect her to say anything when she was gagged? She tried, but it came out as words that made no sense and all started with _’wuh’_ sounds.

“Hm. I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he mocked.

She huffed, but he grinned that damn lopsided feature that she loved so much again and reached up to pull the bandana from her mouth just long enough for her to speak.

“I said I want you to fuck me,” she repeated. But he was testing her patience, and because she didn’t often think before she spoke, she decided to test his. “Assuming you’re man enough, that is; considering you’re still just a _child.”_

Alright, so that was definitely overstepping, but it was too late to take back now even though she really wished she could, especially when she saw the look on his face. His eyes darkened and he immediately smacked a hand over her mouth, the sting of his palm and fingers slapping onto her face as he covered it seeming to resonate with her as he leaned in close.

“You just doubled the amount of spankings you’re going to receive – now you’re at six. Care to keep going?”

Nora narrowed her eyes at him, and he returned the look, but after what felt like forever of staring one another down, she slowly conceded and shook her head.

“Smart answer,” he growled before removing his hand and shoving the bandana back in her mouth.

Six spankings? Fuck.

Arthur reached up and took the bottle from her hands, making her eyebrows furrow as he leaned over and set it on the floor. Was he punishing her by taking away her option to tap out? Oh, fuck. She hoped not.

“You won’t need it right this moment. You’ll be able to tap me,” he said calmly, reassuring her that she’d have some form of communication available to tell him if she needed him to stop. It was a relief, to say the least, and she nodded her head just before he rolled them over, her body now on top of his as she straddled his hips.

“If you need me to stop, you will tap my chest three times just like you would my leg. Do you understand?” he asked; she tapped his chest three times after sitting up and he followed after her, pulling the bandana down long enough just to kiss her roughly again, then putting it back into her mouth. “Good girl,” he praised as he laid back down.

One of his hands was on her side while the other went between their bodies; she lifted herself up, expecting him to align his cock so she could sink down on him, but rather than doing that, he slapped her pussy just like before. It wasn’t as hard as the first two times since it was a weird angle, but she still gasped and jolted away, only for him to do it again and for her to whine at him. 

He grabbed his cock then, lining it up before letting her sink down on him at her own pace, which he probably expected her to ease him in despite how he’d fingered her – because fingering her first never actually prevented her from feeling the burn from being stretched; Arthur was _thick,_ after all. But, instead, she made sure the head slid in before she dropped herself down onto his hips, letting out a low groan against the bandana as their groins collided, which was accompanied by a groan from Arthur, as well.

Nora remained still for a minute, letting herself adjust as the Elder’s hands slowly roamed up and down her body, his fingers gently sliding over her breasts but being sure not to squeeze or press too roughly, then allowing one hand to slide up to her throat, cupping it. She leaned forward, her own hands resting on his chest as she started rocking her hips back and forth, grinding herself against him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he groaned, and she felt her face flush. He sat up as she was grinding, his lips pressing kisses to her shoulder before he bit down, marking her in yet another spot while his hands slid behind her and grabbed her ass, squeezing and groping the cheeks – until one removed itself before returning abruptly, slapping the skin on her rear and making her cry out from the sudden, sharp pain. Arthur smoothed his fingers over the cheek as he released her skin from between his teeth. “Count,” he said quietly before laying back down, bending his legs at the knees and digging his heels into the bed.

His hands went to her waist again just after she tried to say a muffled _’one,’_ and he was encouraging her to bounce up and down on him – but the sound from how damn _wet_ she was between her legs was almost fucking _obscene._

Of course, Arthur noticed the sound right away. “You hear that, pet?” he growled breathlessly. “You hear how fucking wet you are for me?” His hands were helping guide her up and down on his cock but she wasn’t even letting half of him slide out when she went up, so he encouraged her to move higher, slipping nearly all of him out before letting her body slam back down against his groin, their skin repeatedly and loudly smacking together. “Yeah, keep that up, pet,” he moaned. “That’s good. Such a good girl for me.” 

One of the Elder’s hands slid between her legs, his thumb rubbing quick circles around her clit as she kept going, and it wasn’t long before her legs were trembling on either side of him while higher-pitched moans were muffled by the bandana. But just as she was about to tip over the edge, he pulled his hand away and lifted her up, letting his cock slip free and fall against his stomach with a heavy, wet _slap_ while her cunt clenched around nothing, desperate to cum.

Nora whined loudly as she tried to move her hips back and forth in the air, attempting to grind on something – _anything_ – but was unsuccessful, which just made her let out another whine that was almost a cry.

“Mm. Close, were you?” he teased, and she growled while glaring at him, mumbling some expletives that were muffled beneath the bandana that she felt partially lucky he chose to ignore.

Instead, he held his cock back up while she sank down on it again; but rather than letting her do the work, he positioned her hands on his chest and then put his own hands back on her waist, having her raise herself up before he started fucking her from below. His thrusts were quick and hard, their groins slapping together and filling the room, the sound wet and just so damn _dirty;_ she could feel his balls hitting her ass and it just made her groan even more.

One of his hands left her waist, instead going up to her throat and grabbing it without squeezing. “I’m gonna – _fuck_ – gonna cum in your tight cunt, pet. You want me to fill you up?”

Oh, fuck. She nodded her head quickly, her hands clenching into fists as she grabbed some of his chest hair, holding onto it like it was the only thing that was keeping her grounded. Nora tried to match his thrusts a bit, her body pushing down against his hips as he pushed back up, but the remaining hand on her waist kept her still so she wasn’t able to move _too_ much.

When he came, he let out a low groan, his eyes closing as his head fell back, both hands on her waist again, but his hips were still thrusting, cock quickly moving in and out of her as he was coming – and just the feeling of him spending inside her was enough to make her moan. 

“Mmmm _fuck._ Coming inside you feels so fucking good,” he said breathlessly.

Once he’d stopped thrusting, she lowered herself atop him without letting him slip out, pressing her face against his damp chest as her hips started slowly grinding on his groin to get some sort of friction for her clit. Arthur reached up then, brushing some of her hair from her face when it stuck to her skin from sweat; but when she let go of his chest and went to remove the bandana from her mouth, he caught her hands and tugged them away before pulling her body close to his so they were chest-to-chest again. He then reached back and swatted her ass cheek, coaxing another yelp before she whined a muffled _’two’_ into the bandana as he smoothed his fingers over the spot he smacked. Soon after, he flipped them over so he was on top, having slipped out in the process. But she knew he had intentions to go again; the man was young and had a shit ton of stamina — more than she did — and while she could definitely go a few rounds with him, he was able to outlast her. He did on the beach, at least. Hell, she’d learned it usually only took him a few minutes to get hard again after coming, which was fucking insane to her.

His lips were at her shoulder again, biting an unmarked piece of skin to change that and making her moan, then repeating it in a few more spots to keep marking her. But after he was satisfied, he leaned over the edge of the bed to grab the bottle, handing it back to her. The vaultie took it, but he was studying her face again, searching to make sure everything was alright – and she just nodded her head.

══════════════════

Some of his cum was dripping from her cunt and he couldn’t help the way his eyes zeroed in on it as he sat back on his haunches to look her over. His hand went to his cock, stroking to get himself hard again — which didn’t take long because he never had a long refractory period. And once he was there, he pushed his cock back into her, moaning deep in his chest as he sank all the way in. He remained still inside her for a few seconds before slowly pulling out and then slamming back in; Arthur hoisted one of her legs over his shoulders, leaning forward and using the arm on the same side to plant his hand on the bed, holding himself up above her as he started making hard and fast thrusts. His free hand raised and went to her throat, squeezing just a bit to make her feel a little dizzy but not enough to actually cut off her breathing, and only holding it long enough for her to feel that dizziness for a few seconds, which his hand then released her before grabbing her jaw.

“How quickly do you think my men would – _mmm_ – would line up just to get the chance to fuck you, hmm?” Nora’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared up at him. “The chance to fuck the sexy, prewar vault dweller who everyone talks about; the one with – _fuck_ – the one with pure fucking genetics who _screams_ so loud when she – _mmmfuckyes_ – when she cums that the entire ship can hear her.” He snapped his hips against her and she moaned; but he could tell by the look on her face that his words were losing her – so he had to fix it, compromise his dirty talk with something she liked. “Maybe let all my men cum in you, too. Fill your – _shhhhit_ – fill your cunt so full until all you can even _taste_ for the next week is cum.”

The change drew her back in and she moaned, her eyes slipping closed, which he figured was her imagining herself getting pummeled by soldier after soldier and filled up with their cum each time. But that wouldn’t do — he was the one buried in her cunt right now. A smack to her face that was rougher than usual made blood rush to the surface of the spot that received the strike before the pad of his thumb was smoothing it over.

“Eyes open,” he warned with a growl.

She stared up at him, her breathing heavy as he was slamming into her; he could feel she was getting close again – but just as she was about to tip over, he pulled out, leaving her clenching around nothing just like before and almost _crying._

“You gonna be a good girl for me, Nora?” he asked, his teeth attacking her shoulder and biting new marks onto her. By the time he was done with her, there’d be no unmarked skin left.

She nodded to answer his question, making a small _’uh huh’_ noise to go with it. Arthur sat back a little, his eyes looking down to his cock and his free hand reaching down, as well, then coming up to her face. A glob of his cum was on two of his fingers, undoubtedly having stuck to his cock as he kept fucking her after coming inside her. He used his two unoccupied fingers to pull the bandana from her mouth and she smacked her lips a couple times to get saliva going before sticking her tongue out to let him wipe his cum on it.

“Very good girl,” he crooned, watching her gladly take his cum and swallow it before sticking her tongue out again to show she had, in fact, swallowed it all. He leaned down, kissing her gently for a moment. “What do good girls get?” he asked.

“Good girls get rewards.”

“That’s right. And you’ve been a very good girl, so I’ll let you pick your reward – but coming is not an option.” He placed gentle kisses down to her collarbone, his tongue laving out and dipping into the notch in the middle, just below her throat.

“I want to keep the bandana off,” she said, tipping her head back for him, “Please, sir. Please, _daddy.”_

Arthur made a low moan at the name. “Very well,” he agreed before sliding his cock back into her cunt, listening to her gasp and moan since the bandana was no longer keeping her quiet or muffling the noises she made. He started fucking her rough and fast immediately, his body pushing her leg up close to her chest again as their hips smacked together, her moans filling the room as his cock hit that bundle of nerves inside her cunt over and over again. “Mm, _shit,_ seeing your tits bounce every time I fuck you just makes me – _mmmfuck_ – makes me want to bite them and mark them. You’re so fucking lucky you’re too sore for that.”

Nora’s face flushed and Arthur licked at his lower lip at the sight, his hips snapping against her harder as he groaned. She arched her back again, her eyes closing as her head tipped back—

But his hand met her cheek again, the slap harder than before. “I said keep your fucking eyes open, Nora.”

“Sorry, daddy,” she whispered, and he could only groan at the title. He had no idea why getting called ‘daddy’ was driving him crazy but it just _was_ – and hearing Nora use it was making him get closer to coming.

“After I just rewarded you, now you decide you don’t want to be a good girl anymore?”

══════════════════

Her eyes went wide at his question. “No! I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” she exclaimed. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

He made a low growl and she felt his thrusts faltering, but her own orgasm was approaching – it was so close. It wasn’t taking long for her to get to the edge since she’d been denied orgasm after orgasm now and her body was just _aching_ for a release; but before she could get there, Arthur came, though he fucked her through his orgasm just like before, slamming his hips hard against hers as he moaned. And, _fuck,_ she could hear the change in sound as he was filling her and fucking her; it was wetter, and every time their hips smacked together, she could almost feel his cum making them stick together. 

And she was so close. She was so _fucking_ close.

The Elder stilled after he finished coming, keeping himself buried inside her as he tried to catch his breath while she did the same, though there were whimpering moans coming from her throat as she breathed. He must have noticed her frustration, however, because he leaned down and gently kissed her on the lips, one hand cupping her jaw while the other was still holding him up on the bed after he’d released her leg from his shoulder.

When he slipped out of her, he grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her belly, pulling her onto her elbows and knees; he spread her legs apart with his thighs, making enough room for himself to get behind her when he was ready. But first, he leaned in and bit her ass cheek, though it wasn’t hard enough to mark her and was used as a distraction just before he brought his palm down firmly on her other one — and she suddenly wanted to hit him upside the head with the bottle she was still clutching even though she didn’t need it anymore.

“Count,” he ordered.

She mumbled the third number after having yelped from the smack, her body jerking forward. His fingers smoothed over the red marks, and he proceeded to give her three more swats, making her count each one and smoothing his fingers over them, as well, but her ass cheeks were red and stinging by the time he was done. And, of course, he leaned in again and bit at one of them – this time getting a different reaction: a loud whine. She was tender there from being spanked, after all.

Arthur made a low hum before his hand slid along her pussy, his middle and ring fingers slipping inside, crooking and beckoning as they started to quickly move in and out. She immediately moaned, her hips trying to push back against his hand; she could _hear_ his fingers moving in and out from the combination of her slick and his cum due to the two orgasms he’d spent inside of her without even letting her have one release. And now she was worried he was going to make her climb up the edge again before dropping backward like before.

The vaultie didn’t think she could take much more.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, Nora?” His words were like fucking music and she let out a loud moan that she was ashamed to have made because of how fucking pathetic it sounded – nor would she admit to making it later. But it was a goddamn _relief_ to hear that he was going to let her cum. 

“Oh, fuck. Yes, please. Please let me cum, baby,” she begged, her body tensing as she could already feel herself pulsing around him, already climbing the peak.

She chanced a look back at him, seeing him stroking his thick cock with his other hand as he watched his fingers disappear and reappear in her cunt. But his eyes flicked up to her as she was looking, and she recognized that _hungry_ look in them — and when she dared to glance beneath her, there was already a small puddle of cum directly beneath her cunt, likely getting forced out from Arthur’s fingers. Oh, fuck.

“What are you?” he asked. She had no clue what the hell he was looking for, but _fuck,_ she wasn’t about to squander what opportunity she had now to finally cum, so she said the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m your good little pet, daddy. I’m all yours. Only yours. I belong to you— _oh, god, I’m gonna cum! Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckfuckfuck!”_

Right when she came, Arthur ripped his fingers from her, making her cry out because she thought he was about to be cruel to her – but not even a second later, his cock was shoved deep in her cunt, instead, his hips slamming against her ass as he started fucking her through her orgasm.

Someone was screaming in pleasure. It might have been Nora – it probably was Nora, actually – but she wasn’t really able to focus on the sound because all the noise in the room at that moment just blended in together. Instead, Arthur fucked her through her first orgasm, which immediately rolled into a _second_ one from how hard he was fucking her and how intense the first one was, and her eyes rolled back as her lids closed, something along the lines of _’fuck me, baby’_ getting moaned out and fucked into vibrato.

She heard Arthur growl behind her as he was rutting against her ass, his cock hitting that bundle of nerves as her second orgasm just seemed to go on for-fucking- _ever,_ making everything so goddamn sensitive. “Beg for me to cum in your tight cunt,” he ordered.

Nora could barely do it – she was still riding the high of coming twice and now it was starting to _hurt_ as he kept fucking her, but it was so goddamn good and probably the best fucking thing she’d ever felt in her life. But still, she tried — and she tried her fucking hardest — because _good girls did what daddy wanted them to do._

“Oh, fuck, daddy. I want you to cum inside me, fill me – _fuckfuckfuck_ – fill me up so I’m fucking dripping with your cum. Please, daddy. _Please.”_

Arthur bottomed out and she was almost _relieved_ that he was finished, her cunt pulsing around him as he came, but he only stilled for a second as he let out a deep groan, then continued fucking her through his orgasm just like before. This time, the sound was even wetter, and when she dropped her head to look under her, she just saw Arthur’s balls nearly _covered_ in cum as he kept fucking her, the white substance sticking between their bodies each time their skin met.

“Oh, fuck, Arthur,” she whispered, unable to _stop fucking staring_ at just how goddamn messy he’d made her and how much fucking cum there was.

But he stilled after a minute, burying himself balls deep and holding there before pulling out and sitting back on his haunches. The second he pulled out, though, she watched more of his cum ooze out of her and onto the bed, making her whisper another _’fuck’_ beneath her breath. Arthur reached a hand between her legs, running his fingers between her folds as she jolted away from the touch from how sensitive she was. Having so much cum on — and in — her made her feel gross, but she’d be a liar if she said it wasn’t hot as fucking hell at the same time.

It was almost like a sort of claim, coupled with the bruises he’d left all over her body.

After they caught their breaths, Nora allowed her eyes to close as she leaned down and rested her cheek on the bed, not wanting to move but knowing the sheets were definitely covered in cum and she wasn’t about to pass out in that.

Arthur leaned down, placing soft kisses on the back of her shoulder even though he was still slightly breathless. “You did so well, Nora,” he whispered, the praise making her hum in appreciation. “Such a good girl for me.”

The Elder sat back where he was, and when she glanced back at him, she could see he was looking at where his cum was spilling from her, clearly enjoying the sight just as much as she had, but from a different angle. She bit her lower lip. “Arthur,” she said gently, but corrected herself, “Daddy.” His eyes snapped up to hers. “Let me clean you off?”

He made a low moan before moving up the bed, keeping to the side of her before his half-hard cock was beside her face; and it was just _covered_ in cum, just like his balls. Nora licked her lower lip before leaning in to take him into her mouth, starting off with the tip of his cock, sucking it clean, before moving further down the shaft and sucking the rest of his cum off of his cock, doing the same for his balls, too.

His hands brushed her hair from her face where it stuck to her forehead and temple and cheek from sweat. “Good girl,” he praised. He pulled away once she was done, though, and gently stroked her hair. “Let’s get the rope off and get you cleaned up, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no ragrets or whatever


	56. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hated using washcloths in the shower before the war, always preferring something similar to a quick-dry loofah because the _slap slap_ of a washcloth every time it hit her skin was just so goddamn unappealing and—oh, great, now the reminder of that gross sound was going to be stuck in her head all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I never gave you all a visual on Arthur’s aftercare other than when they first started fucking, but I’d mentioned how he adapted his techniques to her needs. He’d always changed it to fit the needs of his subs but he drastically changed it for Nora, so I figured I’d give you guys a scene with that.

Nora was _exhausted._ Nearly every part of her body was sore – her ass cheeks were throbbing from being smacked with large, callused hands that didn’t hold back, then from Arthur’s hips slamming into her from behind over and over; bite marks that were already turning into thick, dark bruises littered her neck, shoulders, chest, and thighs with a few hickeys in between; her knees and hips ached from being stuck in the same fetal position since her body had gone limp; and there were slight rope burns on her wrists from how she’d tugged at her binds throughout their session, especially at the end when she’d had such an intense orgasm that turned into _two_ intense orgasms, leaving her boneless and panting and sated.

Her arms were outstretched in front of her as Arthur began untying the rope from around her wrists and she could tell he was trying to be quick but gentle about it. She was panting with her eyes closed as she listened to his voice, hearing him purr soft words that helped her begin to regain control of her breathing.

“You were so good, love. You did so good.”

The vaultie hummed quietly at the praise, feeling it wash over her and provide a sense of calm as the rope was removed from one wrist and then the other before it was tossed somewhere onto the floor with a _thud._ Arthur moved on to the bandana next, untying it from around her neck and gently slipping it off, freeing her from its entrapment. 

These actions were so familiar and something she’d grown accustomed to expect from him whenever they had sex, even if he wasn’t extremely rough; she’d learned he’d embedded aftercare into his routine regardless of whether it was truly needed or not, and Nora had to admit that little detail was appreciated. Despite how, at first, his aftercare wasn’t _that_ great for her, she noticed his techniques changed over time, though she didn’t exactly realize it nor piece together why that was until much later.

The first time they had sex, he’d cleaned his cum off her before he pulled her into his arms and wrapped his body around her back, but that was all he did – and she felt like shit the next day, though she’d chalked it up to being because of her nightmare about Kellogg. Nora knew nothing of why he’d cleaned and laid with her, had no clue what a ‘drop’ was when he’d brought it up at a later date as to why he was doing those things, nothing. 

But perhaps Arthur had seen something different when they were in the observation deck the morning after, because following their encounter, his aftercare began to change. He’d still clean her, of course, but he began to spend a bit more time doing so. He used softer touches and incorporated some praise into the routine; small things, mostly, but then it extended to giving tender kisses to spots that were sore, gently touching areas that hadn’t been given attention during their session – and soon, Nora just wasn’t feeling so damn bad. Like when he’d spent more time with her in the shower before she went into the Glowing Sea and after she’d fought with Teagan; he’d carried her into the bathroom and helped wash her off, being careful of her sore spots and giving her soft praises before they spoke about what happened, where he’d reassured her that how she enjoyed being hit during sex was, in fact, normal, and then he held her in bed for as long as she needed. Nora didn’t feel so horrible the next morning, and maybe he noticed that, because he just amped it up from there, too.

And now, here he was, gently taking hold of her arm and bringing her wrist to his lips to place soft kisses against the sensitive and slightly ridged skin that had been nearly rubbed raw by the rope he’d tied around it. The touch of his lips stung, of course, but the intimacy of his actions just made her feel warm inside. He set her arm down and repeated the action to her other wrist, and once he set that one down, he slowly stroked his fingers through her damp hair, pushing the strawberry-blonde strands back and away from her face.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said quietly, and Nora felt her face grow warm; he must have seen the flush rise up her cheeks and ears, though, because when she opened her eyes and looked up at him, that adorable, lopsided smile had taken over his lips as he peered down at her. Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder, his hand gently sliding up her spine. “Do you want a stimpack? For your wrists and the bruises?” The quiet concern in his voice made her chest ache. 

“No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Her voice was a bit quieter as her face flushed even redder, nearly hiding the dark freckles that were splashed over her nose and cheeks; she almost felt embarrassed or some similar emotion by what she was about to say – like she was some shy teenage schoolgirl and Arthur her boyfriend who’d just taken her virginity. “I want to keep the bruises. I like them.” Of course, she hadn’t even _seen_ the bruises yet, but each one was a gift to Nora from the man she was seriously thinking about spending the rest of her life with. Considering what happened to the last person she planned to spend eternity with, she’d gladly cherish everything Arthur gave her if it meant he’d be with her a little longer. She’d wear the bruises with pride. 

And the toothy grin that was beaming down at her made wearing them all the better. “I can always make more, but if you insist,” he said playfully, placing another kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Do you want to take a shower tonight or tomorrow before you leave? I can get a cloth if you’re too tired.”

The vault dweller made a soft whining noise that she knew sounded overly needy, but she couldn’t make herself care right now. This was _her_ time; what happened right now was about her and she could sound and be needy if she fucking wanted to. 

“Too tired,” she whispered.

Arthur brushed his thumb along her lower lip and, as if it were instinct, she opened her mouth for him to push it in — but he didn’t. It was as if he’d turned off his dom mode — or was that his personality? — and went into aftercare mode, no longer wanting to establish how much control he had over her. Instead, he gently ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip one more time before pulling away and getting off the bed. She watched him wobble on his legs for a second before balancing himself and she smirked at the sight, glad she wasn’t the only one who was so fucked-out. When he was steady, he went to the same dresser drawer he always did when he cleaned her up and grabbed a cloth, then disappeared into the bathroom for a few seconds; and when he came back out, he was holding three wet cloths, which she sort of realized was a fairly understandable number since it was, uh… well, messy.

Arthur had cum _a lot,_ especially considering they’d fucked the night before _and_ when they woke up today. 

Two of the cloths were set on the nightstand as he climbed back onto the bed on his knees, this time moving behind her. It might have made her nervous to have someone be out of her view when she was stuck in such a vulnerable position if it was anyone but him.

“Nora?”

“Hm?”

“I imagine you’re very sensitive, yes?”

“Mm… I think I’m numb, actually.”

“Oh.” There was a hint of surprise in his voice as if he didn’t expect to be able to literally fuck her numb; but how the hell he underestimated himself and didn’t think it possible he could do that, she had no fucking clue – because the man was a _beast_ in bed. He was rough and knew what he was doing, pleasing every inch of her body that he could with a cocktail of pleasure and pain, both measured out to the exact amounts she liked them. And his size certainly helped, too; about average in length for someone of his height of six-feet two-inches, but Arthur had it going for him in _girth._ The man was fucking thick. “I’m going to clean you, okay?”

“Okay, baby.”

His fingertips gently touched the inside of her thigh, lower than where his destination was, and she startled since she didn’t actually expect him to touch her there first or to even feel it; but when he slid them up her leg, eventually reaching her pussy, the feeling slowly faded until it just… disappeared. Nora shifted a little to glance back at him, seeing the slight worry on his face.

“Do you not feel any of this?” he asked; she noticed his shoulder was moving and she partially wondered if he’d try to stick his fingers in her again to test what all she could and couldn’t feel – the thought made her bite her lower lip.

“No, not really,” she admitted.

Arthur hummed for a moment before she saw his other hand lift, and she realized he hadn’t even used the cloth on her yet but was apparently just testing to see where all she was numb at; and, shit, the realization of how numb she was made her wonder if she was fucking _swollen._

Oh, god. She didn’t want to think about that.

The vaultie buried her face in the bed then, trying not to cringe at the thought of how horrible she must look between her legs, all swollen and covered in cum, even though Arthur didn’t seem affected by it while he was back there. She felt his left hand on her back, palm rough and fingers damp as they slowly stroked up and down her spine, the feeling soothing her and helping ease her mind away from what she looked like.

“Almost done. You’re doing so well,” he cooed, and she made a small noise of acknowledgement. It shouldn’t have taken this long to clean her off, and she knew that, but he was probably taking his time by being extremely gentle and making sure he got everything before he moved away.

“All done, love,” he finally said. His hand stopped stroking her spine and instead rested in place as she felt the bed shift, then a soft kiss was placed against the small of her back, beard hairs tickling her sensitive skin and making her wiggle. When he pulled his lips away, the sound of the balled-up wet cloth landing on the metal floor with a _slap_ after it was tossed away made her nose crinkle. That noise was always the biggest reason she hated using washcloths in the shower before the war, always preferring something similar to a quick-dry loofah because the _slap slap_ of a washcloth every time it hit her skin was just so goddamn _unappealing_ and—oh, great, now the reminder of that gross sound was going to be stuck in her head all night.

“Such a good girl,” Arthur crooned as his lips were against the back of her shoulder again, his voice bringing her back into the here and now – only then did she realize he’d scooted back up the bed to be at her side. “I’m going to pull the sheets off, but I want you to stay still for now.”

When she nodded her head, her eyes followed his movements. He started on the corner closest to him, tugging the linens up, then leaned over her to do the corner on the opposite side before moving down to the foot of the bed and doing those. When the corners were free, he gently maneuvered them from under her, lifting her just enough to slip the sheets free without letting her uncurl from her fetal position just yet – and once they were off, he tossed them to the floor.

“There we go,” he said quietly, his hand back on her spine and rubbing up and down it for a moment, soothing her once again. “Your hips and knees might be sore when your stretch your legs out, so I want you to let me do it for you, okay?” Nora nodded her head and only then did he help her roll onto her right side, using his hands to guide her where he wanted her to go. “I don’t know how sore you’ll be, love, so I need you to breathe in slowly for me while I do this.”

“Okay,” she said before taking a slow, deep breath.

Arthur began straightening her left leg out, one hand on the inside of her thigh and the other on her calf; a burning sensation started in her shin as if she was getting the feeling back into the lower part of her leg, and then it traveled to her foot soon after. But when her leg was about halfway straightened, her knee made a loud _pop,_ causing her to whine and him to stop moving it. He gave her a chance to relax as he massaged the area, then straightened her leg out completely, bending and straightening it a few more times before bending it halfway and moving her leg from side-to-side, her hip making an even louder and more sickening _pop_ that just garnered a relieved groan from her.

“There we go. Felt good, did it?” She nodded her head, flexing the toes in her left foot as her leg was straightened. “Good girl,” he purred. “Just need to do your right leg and then I can finish cleaning you up.”

He was gentle when he set her left leg down, and even more gentle when he rolled her onto her back, holding her right leg up against her chest still so she wouldn’t try to straighten it on her own. He gave her a moment to relax on her back as he rubbed the thigh of her left leg, and then gave her right one the same treatment as the first – stretching it out slowly, garnering a _pop_ from her knee, bending and straightening it a few times, and then bending it halfway to move it from side-to-side, though that hip didn’t pop.

”Very good,” he praised when he was done.

Fuck. Some of his praises made her feel like a goddamn _pet,_ but she couldn’t help how much she loved it.

Nora stretched her legs out completely, feeling her toes tingle while his hands were at her thighs, his thumbs digging in just a bit too hard as he tried to massage the muscles beneath them – the muscles she’d mostly toned from running around the damn Commonwealth; but when he saw her wince, he eased up, and it was much more pleasurable. He rubbed all the way down her legs then, trying to ease the stress she’d accumulated from their session but also trying to help her relax so she’d be able to sleep comfortably.

The Elder didn’t spend much time massaging her, however, and she soon felt him leaning away from her as he grabbed one of the two wet cloths he’d left on the nightstand. “Let’s finish getting you cleaned up, love,” he said quietly, and she only nodded her head in response.

He moved further up the bed a little, still at her side, before he started gently cleaning away the dried sweat and saliva from her body – two fingers pressed beneath the part of the cloth he was using. Beginning at her shoulders, he was sure to barely touch the spots that were already bruised or would bruise from the bites and sucks he’d made since they’d be tender, but otherwise cleaning them with gentle touches. Going down her chest, Arthur avoided her breasts except to gently run the rag beneath them to collect any sweat that might have accumulated there; and the rest was quick, for the most part, aside from when he spread her legs to clean between them again just in case he missed anything, mostly in the crook of her thighs.

Before tossing the rag away, however, he used it on himself – because using saliva to clean away cum wasn’t exactly _cleaning_ anything – then threw it over his shoulder, causing another _slap_ to sound out as it landed on the metal floor. Ugh, that fucking noise. 

“You’re making a mess of the room, you know. Kinda setting a bad example for military personnel,” she said playfully.

“Remind me to reprimand myself later, then,” he quipped before grabbing a can of purified water off the nightstand.

“Or you could let me do it, instead.”

Arthur paused at her words, looking down at her for a long moment as he seemed to consider her, and she swore he didn’t exactly look outright _opposed_ to the idea of her ‘reprimanding him’ — or maybe that was just wishful thinking. The Elder hummed for a few seconds but never gave her an answer, instead popping the can of water open before helping her sit up to take a drink; she only took a few gulps before pulling away, satisfied with the intake. He helped her lay back down, took a few gulps himself, and then closed the can back up and set it on the nightstand.

The final cloth was grabbed, though, and she curiously watched his movements. He shifted around, still sitting on his knees with his legs spread, but now hunched over directly above her, one palm pressed down onto the mattress above her head while his face was mere inches away from hers. He gently began cleaning the dried sweat from her face, beginning with her left temple, moving up to her forehead, and then to her right temple. Nora stared up at him the entire time, getting lost in the angelite blue of his eyes while he was so focused on what he was doing. 

God, he was so fucking beautiful.

“You were so good tonight,” he crooned, and his words brought her back again, just as they always did — because his voice was the purchase she sought; the only thing she could use to ground herself with in order to stop her eternal freefall when she got lost in his fucking eyes.

She blinked a few times, realizing he’d met her gaze – but rather than seeing that sexy, cocky smirk upturn one cheek or that adorable, lopsided smile stretch his lips, he just stared down at her almost… thoughtfully.

Nora felt her face grow warm. Okay, not just warm – _hot._ Like she’d stepped into a giant firepit and, rather than trying to find a way out, she’d just danced around in the flames.

“You took so well to being bound and gagged.” Arthur leaned in and kissed her forehead, holding his lips there for a few seconds and allowing her to relish in the intimate action; she could only release a sigh of contentment. “Better than I could have imagined,” he added as he pulled away.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, watching him shift his body so he was lying on his side next to her – facing her. His hand was placed on her jaw then, cupping it and gently stroking her cheek with his thumb before he pushed himself to lean over her, his upper body almost caging hers in. “Mm. Took my cock so well, too.”

Their lips met as he pulled her into a kiss, the hand on her jaw slowly sliding to the back of her neck. “Such a good girl,” he said against her lips, and she couldn’t help but slide one of her hands up to the side of his neck when he praised her. “Would never let anyone else touch you,” he continued, still speaking into the kiss, “Not ever. You’re mine, baby. Only mine. _My_ good girl.” The emphasis on the word _’my’_ made her stomach flutter as she pushed her lips against his a little harder, her other hand finding purchase on his bicep as he cradled the back of her neck.

While Arthur’s possessiveness wasn’t new, these words were. He’d done his dirty talk with saying she’d enjoy getting passed around like a toy, and she figured some of what he was saying now was to counter his words during sex, but it was much more vulnerable than he may have realized. She knew he didn’t like when she’d slept with someone other than him despite how they weren’t in a relationship before, so maybe this was because they now _were_ in a relationship — and despite what he’d said during sex, he had no desire to share her. 

His hand then slipped away from the back of her neck, instead sliding down to her throat, his thumb brushing over her pulse point before he kept going lower – between her breasts, down her stomach, and right to her pussy. Nora squeezed her legs together, realizing she could feel his fingers again as he’d started rubbing her clit with them. She shook her head just slightly into the kiss, breaking it but keeping their lips close enough that she could feel his brushing against hers as she spoke.

“I can’t have sex again tonight, baby. I’m too sore.”

But he closed the distance between their mouths once more, pulling his hand free from between her trapped thighs and then prying her legs apart. “Didn’t say anything about sex,” he murmured into the kiss. His lips pulled away when his fingers found her clit again, instead pressing gentle kisses to her throat — so different from what he’d done earlier, considering the bruises she had all over her body. “You were such a good girl for me that I want to give you another reward. I think you deserve to cum again, don’t you?”

Nora closed her eyes and tipped her head back to bare her throat as she let her thighs fall open, giving him what he wanted. What _she_ wanted. “Yeah,” she whispered. Kissing him had certainly riled her up again even though she was so damn tired; but if he was offering to do all the work, well... “Please be gentle, Arthur.”

His lips were moving down her chest, avoiding the bruises as he placed soft kisses while his fingers were rubbing her clit in slow circles. “Anything for my good girl,” he crooned against her skin. “Anything at all.” But he didn’t go further down than her stomach, instead pressing soft kisses to where her stretch marks were as he switched to rubbing her clit with his thumb, dipping it between her folds to get it wet with her slick so he wasn’t rubbing dry. 

But she wanted a little more from him to help her along – something she wasn’t sure he’d be willing to give right now.

She looked down at him, seeing he was so focused on pleasing her that he was looking at where he was kissing rather than her face like he usually would have been. Nora bit her lower lip. “Will you eat me out?” she whispered, “I want to feel your tongue on me. Please, baby?”

His thumb stopped and his eyes snapped up to her, the bright blue color nearly gone as his pupils were blown from arousal while his lips were pressed against her skin. They stared at one another for what felt like an eternity and she was about to tell him nevermind, she shouldn’t have asked, and she was sorry for doing so. She knew a lot of men — at least prewar men — had a thing about not wanting to taste themselves; and despite how he’d cleaned her, there’d undoubtedly still be the taste of him lingering between her legs, mixed with her own slick. 

The vault dweller opened her mouth to tell him to forget it – but a low noise rumbled from his chest as he started moving lower, placing a trail of kisses along the way. She bit her lower lip a little harder, watching him move further between her legs until his mouth was on her clit, lips sucking on it as he kept eye contact with her. Nora gasped and arched her back while she tried to keep her gaze on him, her legs spreading a bit more for him.

“Oh, fuck, that is so hot,” she whispered but she didn’t even know if he heard her.

One of his hands was on the top of her thigh, his rough palm slowly stroking up her hip and to her side, then to her stomach, and finally down to where his face was. He let her clit go free from his mouth and used his thumb to pull the hood of it back, exposing the sensitive bud even more than it already was before flicking his tongue against it. All she could do was let out a loud moan, her legs already trembling as he brought her close to coming for the third time.

“I’m so close, baby,” she keened, her hands trying to grip the sheets but finding nothing there and, instead, her nails just roughly scratching across the mattress – at least until she felt his free hand in one of hers, letting her grip his fingers just before she came. Nora’s head tipped back and her spine arched as she flew over the edge, moaning out his name while he was sucking hard on her clit again and flicking his tongue against it to help her ride her orgasm out; but once she jerked away from him, he released the swollen nub. She was panting like last time, trying to catch her breath, though her eyes dropped to look down at him as he remained unmoving between her legs. 

The second they made eye contact, he made a fucking show of leaning in, pushing his tongue between her folds close to her perineum, and then _slooooowly_ dragging it up to her clit. He didn’t have to say a damn word for her to know what he meant — he clearly had no problem tasting his own cum. 

_Fuck._

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she whispered as he started making his way back up her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake just as he had on the way down. “I hope you know how fucking sexy you are.”

The Elder hummed lightly before kissing her, keeping it gentle and slow; and they remained silent for a few long moments, just taking their time kissing, loving. 

“I love you, Arthur,” she murmured against his lips.

“I love you, too, Nora,” he quietly replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur’s aftercare is... different. But it’s what works for Nora.


	57. Scolded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nate and I considered it but decided we’d rather have you instead.”
> 
> Shaun hummed for a moment, his hazel eyes alight with fire. “And if you could go back in time and change that decision, would you?”
> 
>  _Yes._ “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets fairly heavy with Nora's past. 
> 
> CW: mentions of abortion, past suicide attempts, abuse, body shaming/fatphobia, victim blaming, slut shaming

“Mother, it is very good to see you again. I was beginning to worry you might not return.”

Those hazel eyes, their color more green than brown, stared at her from a white chair that fit perfectly into a desk with a terminal on it, though the chair was swiveled around to face where she stood. Shaun was expecting her, it seemed, and his tone and words almost made it sound like he’d _missed_ her despite how she’d been at the Institute just six days ago.

Then again, he’d grown up the past sixty fucking years without his mother, hadn’t he?

And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him, too – or, rather, what he was supposed to be.

“Hey, kiddo,” Nora blurted out before stopping in her tracks; her face downturned as she realized her son was not, in fact, a ‘kiddo,’ but was more than twice her physical age, and there was no reason she should have even accidentally used that word. But her blue eyes locked onto his hazel ones as she stared at him, trying to gauge his reaction to her stupid mistake; he just gave her a sad smile, though, before turning around in his chair and returning to typing on his terminal as if she hadn’t just accidentally tried to normalize their relationship for some fucking reason and instead just made both of them completely uncomfortable.

The vaultie rubbed her thighs through her jeans, the sound much too loud in the large, quiet room. She glanced around, debating where to sit before moving over to where Shaun was at and sitting her ass right on his desk; fingers hooking around the edge and feet swinging because she was so damn short. Her son looked at her hips with disapproving eyes, clearly not appreciating her sitting on his furniture, before he returned his attention back to what he was doing.

Yeah, she won that battle.

She was petty.

They were quiet as he typed away on his terminal and Nora found herself sort of daydreaming – mostly about what Arthur was doing, whether Codsworth had thought of any new bets, if Preston had a bunch of settlement sites backed up that he was just _dying_ to tell her about because she was clearly the only qualified person in the entire fucking world to tend to them, and so many other things. At least until Shaun spoke.

And he was fucking touching her.

“Where did you get this bruise?” he asked.

His fingertips were touching a spot on her throat as he was standing in front of her – when the hell had he even stood up? – and they traced over to another spot that peaked out from beneath her shirt. She still wasn’t wearing her vault suit and she wasn’t about to cause any problems by wearing a Brotherhood of Steel uniform – especially if she had to pee, because she did _not_ want to fight with those fucking suits in the bathroom by herself – so, instead, she was wearing a white shirt and jeans.

But his fingers pushed the collar of her shirt over a little, revealing even more bruises, and Nora immediately shoved his hand away because one, that was fucking weird and two, that was also fucking creepy.

“Did someone hurt you, mother?” he asked, and the way he said _’mother’_ was really turning her stomach, like she’d raised him in some super strict religious household that only allowed him to call his parents ‘mother’ and ‘father.’

“No, Shaun. No one hurt me.”

“Where did you get those bruises?”

Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Arthur had bruised her up pretty fucking good and now her _son_ was taking notice of the visible ones and asking where they came from. She wondered if there was ever a prewar parent socialization group that helped single parents figure out ways to explain to their elderly, dying sons about why mommy had bite marks all over her throat after she was with her much younger boyfriend.

Probably not.

“Don’t worry about it,” she snapped, sounding much too defensive for her own good.

He went quiet as he eyed the visible bruises on her throat again, but when his hand came up once more to push the collar of her shirt to the side so he could see some of the hidden marks, she let him. Might as well just get it over with and rip off the fucking band-aid.

“Is he hurting you?”

Nora didn’t actually _mean_ to snort – it just sort of happened. Her hand immediately shot up to cover her mouth and nose, though, as she stared up at him with raised eyebrows; he was just as surprised at the noise as she was. They stared at one another before she lowered her hand, setting it in her lap. “Not… in the way you think. Just… please, Shaun. This isn’t a conversation you want to have.”

If there was one thing that told her Shaun was her son, it was his annoying fucking determination. “Please, mother, explain to me why you are covered in bruises and why I should not worry about that.”

She pursed her lips, taking in a deep breath as she thought of how she could go about this.

_Oh, don’t worry, honey. Mommy just likes to have really rough sex and your future stepdad is really into biting the fuck outta me. Nothing to worry about!_

“Can we just go with the fact it’s consensual?” she asked, hopeful he’d let it go from there.

“That makes no sense.” His voice was irritated as he was losing his patience.

“Okay, Shaun, you win.” Nora pulled the collar of her shirt a little further over, showing more marks on her shoulder – the other one was actually worse, but she’d rather him not see it. “They’re bite marks. I like being bitten during sex and Arthur likes biting during sex.” She let go of her collar. “Happy now? Does that answer your fucking question?”

His face was red, and he looked like he immediately regretted prying as he fell silent – good. 

“Now that we’ve bonded over my sex life, I gotta go talk to what’s-his-name about the seed thingy and someone else wanted me to do something but I don’t fuckin’ remember, so I’ll leave you alone for a little to think up any other questions you want to ask about how Arthur and I fuck, and you feel free to ask them when I get back, alright? Alright. Good talk.”

Asshole.

══════════════════

Nora did her tasks for the Brotherhood – used the network scanner and collected the data and _did not leave the holodisk in the terminal,_ spoke to Dr. Li and convinced her to work with the Brotherhood, and even ran around the locked up portion of Bioscience to find the cure for Virgil. Everything was finished, she’d even went and spoke to some of the others who were apparently important, and now she needed to go speak to her son and pretend like she was actually here to help do… something. 

He was at his terminal again, _type, type, typing_ away, doing whatever he was supposed to do as the Director of the Institute. She’d retaken her seat on his desk, getting another sideways look of disapproval that she just ignored like every other sideways look of disapproval she received, and instead just kicked her feet back and forth since they didn’t touch the ground. She was hoping he’d say something, but when he didn’t, she figured she’d have to make conversation herself.

“I buried Nate,” she blurted out. There was no softness to it and she sort of regretted doing it that way – not because she wanted to tell him delicately but because the three words needed to be soft for _her._ The act was still so fucking raw and it made her insides feel like they would crumble every time she thought about it.

“Yes, I assumed you did so after you’d left. How did you…?”

Of course, he wanted to know how she got her husband’s giant ass out of the back of the vault freezer – though, not actually _how_ she did it, but rather _who she had help her._

“You already know the answer to that, Shaun. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

In her peripheral vision, she saw his head turn in her direction, but he remained quiet and only looked at her for a couple seconds before returning to his terminal. He must have been shocked to hear the coldness in her voice – join the fucking crowd.

“Have you told him yet?” he asked after they’d fallen silent again.

Of course, the topic was still Arthur. He didn’t want to talk about Nate – he wanted to avoid that subject. Maybe it was because he felt guilty about how he’d described his father as ‘collateral damage’ or whatever the fuck he’d said. She sure hoped he felt guilty.

“Yes.”

“I imagine you’ll be keeping it, then.”

“Yes, we will.”

“I suppose you don’t get much of a choice in the matter, though, considering you’re carrying the legendary Maxson blood.” His tone was mocking – and, to be fair, she couldn’t really blame him for mocking the whole bloodline thing. It was ridiculous.

“There aren’t many options in the wasteland, Shaun.” 

“Not in the wasteland, no. But in the Institute? Abortion is very much an option, mother.”

Nora’s chest became tight at the word and she immediately turned her eyes over to her son, meeting his gaze as her brows furrowed. Was he actually suggesting she get an abortion – that she let his people give her an abortion? It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered even wanting one, it was that her fucking son was telling her he’d give her one if she did.

This was so fucked up.

She just shook her head. “I don’t want an abortion. I chose not to abort you and I’m choosing not to abort this baby.”

But the mention of choosing not to abort him seemed to pique his interest as he swiveled his chair to face her, and that made her chest hurt. He wanted to know why she and Nate decided to keep him despite never truly knowing them as his parents. “You wanted to abort me?”

“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “Nate and I considered it but decided we’d rather have you instead.”

Shaun hummed for a moment, his hazel eyes alight with fire. “And if you could go back in time and change that decision, would you?”

_Yes._

”I don’t know.”

He went quiet and studied her, his gaze working over the side of her face as she wasn’t looking at him anymore – she couldn’t. She couldn’t look at her son right now and not want to fucking cry, especially not when he kept making shit worse.

“So, you’re sure it’s Elder Maxson’s?”

“Sorry, what?” she asked, resisting the urge to shoot him a glare but instead furrowing her eyebrows and glaring at the floor.

“My synths have kept an eye on you since you left the vault, mother. I’m aware of at least one other person who you slept with around the same time you conceived.”

MacCready. 

Nora’s jaw dropped as she finally turned her eyes to her son, unable to do anything but just fucking stare at him in disbelief.

“I’m also unsure it was wise to have been sleeping around in a post-apocalyptic wasteland with little access to proper medical care and no access to contraceptives. Even within the Brotherhood, you had no access to any preventative measures, and yet you still had casual sex.”

This wasn’t happening. This could not be happening. There was no way she was getting scolded about her sex life by her sixty-year-old son. Nora felt her face growing hot like liquid fire was pumping through her veins, threatening to make her explode at any second.

“Perhaps I don’t fully understand what you are going through, however. You and father were very close and losing both of us at the same time must have been extremely difficult, so you had to cope… somehow. Even if the way you coped and still are coping is… well, not ideal nor the smartest decision.”

Nora wanted to throw up. She could feel how he was just staring at her, those beautiful eyes that belonged to her _husband_ and _son,_ not this fucking monster before her, never breaking away from hers.

 _”However,_ if that is what helped you get through your time in the wasteland, I suppose I can’t fault you for that, even if it did end up having… consequences.”

Nora put her hand on her stomach, fingers splayed – protective. _Not my fucking baby._

“But I’d be more than happy to provide you the means to fix the little error, if you wish, and you can join me here and we can spend what time I have left together rather than you spending your time with the boy who plays soldier in a blimp. He only distracts you from your – _our_ – greater purpose.”

Her face was red; oh, it was probably redder than a ripe tato, redder than she’d ever been before. Redder than a fucking prewar apple. “Shut up,” she said quietly.

“Excuse me?” he questioned, likely unsure if he heard her correctly.

“I said shut the fuck up, Shaun,” she snarled, bringing herself to stand and spinning to face him. Her hands were balled into fists at her side, clenching and unclenching just to stop herself from socking her elderly son in the fucking jaw. “You don’t get to judge my fucking life after everything you’ve done to the people in the Commonwealth. You don’t get to play the role of jealous child because your widowed parent is moving on. You don’t get to fucking do that.”

Her son slowly stood, peering down at her with eyes that made her miss Nate more than ever. “It’s not about jealousy, mother. It’s about how quickly you threw yourself to other men after he died and wasted your time on finding your son when you thought I was still a child. Meanwhile, I set the entire thing up for you to follow along – I resented Conrad Kellogg for what he did, for killing father and for tearing our family apart, and I made sure you got your revenge. I ensured _you_ were the one who killed him, no one else. And yet you squandered your time in the wasteland, and for what? Sex? Pleasure? Distractions? Or were you looking for a replacement family?”

Every ounce of anger Nora felt immediately dissipated as hurt took over; her lips parted just slightly, and she furrowed her eyebrows while she studied him – her son, who’d just said some of the worst shit he could have ever said to her.

She was brought back to a time before the war when she was around thirteen years old. Her mother yelled at her often because she was overweight; she’d told Nora she was fat and ugly and she’d never find love, that she’d be a disgusting whale for the rest of her life. Those words had hit deep and stuck with her, giving her body image issues that she still struggled with over 200 years later.

Another time, when she was seventeen, her father had gotten so drunk that he mistook her for her mother; luckily, he passed out after merely cornering her and before he could even lay a hand on her, but her mother refused to believe her. She’d said Nora was too ugly for that to happen – too fat; that she was just mad at her father and wanted to get back at him for something; that she’d thrown herself at him because she was a disgusting whore.

And then in Goodneighbor with Arthur, when he’d essentially called her a whore after saying she spread her legs for MacCready and probably did so for Hancock, as well.

The realization, however, that Arthur used those sorts of words in bed – _‘Commonwealth whore‘_ – and that it turned her on made her question what the fuck was wrong with her.

_Snap, snap, snap._

She’d already had a replacement family, though – Nate; and she was his replacement family, too. They’d found one another before it was too late, before Nora had gathered the courage to try to kill herself again, hopefully succeeding because, fuck, the fifth time was the charm, right? And before Nate had shipped off to Alaska with the hopes he wouldn’t come back. They’d found each other in that stupid grocery store she worked at and he looked so damn fine in his uniform; she was caught staring because Nora never knew how to _not_ get caught – and she apparently still didn’t know – and he’d asked her out. From there, everything was great.

_Snap, snap, snap._

The decision of bringing Shaun into their lives was supposed to be a good thing; and it was, at first. They were so happy to have a baby even though they were unsure; she was terrified and so was he, but he always helped her through all the anxiety and panic. But in the back of her mind, even while she was pregnant, she always asked herself if it was a good idea to have a child – because two fucked up people having kids never ended well, did it?

_”Mother!”_

She was proof of that. Nate was proof of that. And, just as expected, so was Shaun.

But Nate was gone – and Shaun? Well, Shaun was pretty much gone, too, so she’d lost her replacement family. But did that mean she was actively looking for another one, even before she knew her first one was completely over with? Before she’d even found her son, or at least knew what happened to him? Arthur and Nate were similar in many aspects, so was her latching onto Maxson actually because she was fond of _him_ or because he reminded her of Nate? Nora always thought Danse was more like Nate, but maybe… maybe she was wrong.

And when Arthur had cum in her – when he’d done it in the showers just to stake a fucking claim, she hadn’t even been as mad as she could have. Sure, she’d yelled at him about it, but she was just more outraged about everything else that happened, wasn’t she? And since she was being careless by having unprotected sex – was there even such a thing as protected sex in the wasteland? – with not only Arthur, but also MacCready, she was increasing her chances of ending up pregnant despite both men pulling out. She knew they’d both go above and beyond for their children.

_”Mother, can you hear me?”_

Was that her way of finding her _second_ replacement family?

Oh, god. Shaun was right, wasn’t he? She was just using Arthur as a way to play fucking house; she probably didn’t even love him or want to actually be with him – she just wanted that _replacement_ because she thought that was what she needed and deserved.

Fuck. _Fuck._

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

 _”Mother, I need you to bre_ —athe. There you are. Welcome back.”

Shaun’s voice had been so distorted and distant, but it came into focus quickly and suddenly. He was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders while they were at eye-level. She was sitting on one of the ugly red couches while he was in his computer chair, seeming to have swiveled it all the way across the room to join her in the seat she’d somehow managed to walk herself to without knowing it.

“Mother, is this a common thing that happens? Where you just… mentally disappear?” he asked. “This is… very worrisome and I think you should let Dr. Volkert have a loo—”

“I should have aborted you,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the comments have been pretty barren lately. come talk to me, you fucks.


	58. Visitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate myself more than anyone could ever hate me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another heavy chapter.
> 
> CW: mentions of abortion, suicidal ideation, slut shaming, self-mutilation

Her stay at the Institute wasn’t long considering she’d told Shaun she should have aborted him. Strangely enough, her son seemed understanding, but that was because he’d chalked it up to her becoming emotional due to her pregnancy, claiming her hormones must have been off even though it was way too soon for that to be a thing – but alright. Instead, he encouraged her to get some rest; but when she said she was going to visit Nate, he thought that was a great idea.

Now, Nora found herself back in Sanctuary, staring at the door of her broken-down home and hesitating to go inside. Only four people knew of her pregnancy at the moment – Shaun, Arthur, Ingram, and herself – and she wanted Codsworth to be the fifth. Maybe it was stupid to want a damn robot to be one of the first ones to know she was pregnant but the Mister Handy had been with her for a long time; she and Nate had purchased him when they bought the house, years before they’d even conceived Shaun. Codsworth was her family.

Maybe he was part of her replacement family.

With a deep breath, the vaultie entered her home, finding the robot frantically searching Shaun’s old room. “Codsworth?” she called out, peeking through the doorway as he lifted the rug to peek beneath it.

“Oh, mum! This is just _awful!_ I cannot find Shaun’s mobile anywhere! It—it must have fallen off his crib somehow!” His voice was filled with panic and sadness as if he felt he’d somehow failed because the mobile was missing – she knew that wasn’t the case at all. And she wondered if this was his way of coping with the news of who – and what – her son was.

With furrowed eyebrows, Nora watched him look in the closet, then in one of the drawers of the dresser. “It’s okay, Codsworth. I took it. I—” she cut herself off, eyes looking to the ruined floor of the house as the robot stopped searching and turned his full attention to her, all three eye stalks staring at her curiously.

“Mum?”

She returned her gaze to him. “I buried it with Nate, Codsworth. I should have told you, I’m sorry,” she said, “Listen, I’m gonna go talk to Nate for a little bit and when I come back, I have something to talk to you about.”

Codsworth would have to be the sixth – it was only fair to Nate.

“Oh, alright, mum. Is everything okay?”

She pondered the question for a moment, allowing it to roll around in her head like a ball in an ever-moving basket. Was everything alright? No, not really, but he wasn’t actually asking about _everything,_ he was asking about everything regarding what she was doing at that very moment – what was bothering her. Even though he had no idea what her intentions were regarding what she was wanting to speak to Nate about; that she was going to tell her dead husband she was pregnant despite the fact he hadn’t even died a year ago – well, he died sixty years ago, but to her, it wasn’t even a year – and that she’d moved on so damn quickly; that she was already considering spending the rest of her fucked up life with another man; that she was looking for another fucking replacement family.

“I don’t know yet. But we never really do know, I guess.”

The robot seemed confused, but he remained quiet, letting her have the silence to herself as she stood there thinking before finally turning around and leaving the house to speak to her husband.

══════════════════

Nate’s grave was undisturbed, thankfully. There was no tombstone like she wished there was – she didn’t know how to make one and she couldn’t go and purchase one – but there was a marker with a single large rock that was placed at the head of his grave. 

She sat in the dirt beside the stone, crossing her legs in front of her before her fingers ran over the rock’s cool surface. She was quiet for a long time, not really sure what to say to her husband or mostly where to start. How did she tell him what was going on? How did she tell him he was being replaced by another man? How did she tell him _Shaun_ was being replaced?

Her fingers were spinning his ring around again.

“Nate.” His name came out as a whisper and it made her cringe; she didn’t even recognize her own voice anymore.

After clearing her throat, she tried again. “Nate, I know I probably should have come back sooner but I needed a little time to think. I got some news that I don’t really know how I feel about yet.” And that was true – she didn’t know how she felt about it. Part of her was terrified because she didn’t want to be a mother again considering how it went last time; part of her was disgusted with herself for letting it happen; part of her was angry she’d been so careless; and then another part of her was strangely happy she’d get the chance to try again, because that was stolen from her before.

Her eyes fell down to her fingers as she spun his ring around, wishing she didn’t have this fucking habit – then again, if she didn’t, that would mean she wouldn’t have Nate’s ring on her finger because he wouldn’t be dead, and that would also mean Arthur wouldn’t be in her life.

That was such a fucked-up thought to have.

“I told you I wanted to talk to you about Arthur but that I needed some time to think about what to say. Well, I did a lot of thinking—” _and a lot of fucking, you whore,_ “—and I want to tell you he’s a really good man—” _good between your thighs, you mean._ “He takes care of me—” _takes care of your sexual needs,_ “—and takes a lot of the weight off my shoulders—” _yeah, because you made yourself his sub and took him as your dom, you fucking slut._ “I don’t feel so overwhelmed with him around—” _that’s what happens when you give your control away, idiot._

The vault dweller’s eyes raised so she looked at the rock beside her, studying it like it was the face of her husband – like she was trying to gauge what Nate was thinking even though he clearly wasn’t thinking anything because he was fucking dead. “I really care about him and he really cares about me. I don’t—” she paused, eyebrows furrowing, “—I don’t know if you’d approve of him. I hope you would because he really does care for me but… there are some things about him I know you wouldn’t be happy with.” She sighed, her fingers running through her hair. “I know you probably don’t want to hear about him, but I want you to know who he is. I want you to know Arthur because I… I do love him. I think? I told him I do, and he said it back.”

Nora’s fingertip found her nose, _tap, tap, tapping_ in thought. “It might not surprise you, but he’s a soldier. Got myself involved in that shit again,” she admitted with a slight laugh as her arm fell atop her leg, hand just barely hovering above the ground. “I know our politics really developed in, like, the last five years of the war; you with your activism and me with my law degree defending activists. At least until Shaun. God, the memories are so clear. I defended so many of your friends in court when they got arrested for protesting the war and police brutality and all that, didn’t I? I don’t even remember how many.”

There was one particular case she remembered where the Boston police had kettled a large group of people who were protesting the war – including her husband, many of them veterans of that exact war – and arrested all of them despite everyone being peaceful. Nora and another group of lawyers had taken their cases and worked their asses off to get them free with the charges dropped, and after a long and exhausting fight, they’d won the battle for all but four people.

Another sigh left her lungs and she leaned over again, allowing her fingertips to gently trail over the rock; it was so cool to the touch, contrasting with how warm her body felt. “But Arthur doesn’t have the same outlook. I think he enjoys being a soldier; thinks it’s necessary and—” there was a pause. How the hell was she supposed to tell him Arthur wasn’t just a soldier but was actually _leading_ a fucking army? Which was ten times worse.

“He’s… uh, involved in this organization called the Brotherhood of Steel. Do you remember Roger Maxson? I haven’t told Arthur this, but I’m sure you remember the guy – he was a captain in the army before the war, had huge name recognition. I didn’t even make any connection at first, but he was initially invited to the Veteran’s Hall where you were going to speak about needing legislation to prevent a nuclear war. I guess he wasn’t going to make it because he got stationed somewhere, but yeah. The guy was a huge dick the one time we met him; I think it was at some dinner after you got back from Alaska. He kept talking down to you and kept looking at my tits even when his wife was right next to him. Ugh.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes as if Roger Maxson had just now looked at her chest once again. The man was a fucking creep and made her super uncomfortable; she remembered how she couldn’t wait to get away from him that night.

”Yeah, so, uh… don’t get mad about this but Arthur is kinda sorta… his descendent.” With the revelation, she flinched, as if expecting Nate to scream _’what!?’_ in a thunderous voice in reaction; but when nothing came, she relaxed and ran her fingers through her hair again. “But Arthur isn’t like Roger; I don’t think so, anyway. Arthur adapts to things; he changes. He’s changed for _me. A lot.”_ There was a slight nod of her head like she was confirming her own story, as if she needed to convince herself of it. But she didn’t need to be convinced that Arthur was nothing like his ancestor and instead was a good man who had changed for her… right?

”Things were fairly rocky between us at the beginning. It was supposed to be just sex, but I don’t think it ever really was just that. He hurt me a lot when he tried to push me away, but things are so much better now; they’re great, actually, and he’s… sort of what grounds me. I’m just worried you wouldn’t approve of him because, well, he’s the _leader_ of a huge military organization. And they use a lot of force – and I mean _a lot_. I’ve… managed to get him to change things about that. They’re doing things differently in some aspects because I’ve asked him to. Using less force and causing less bloodshed, so he’s changing himself and the way he leads specifically for me; but I’m still worried you wouldn’t approve of him because of what he does.”

Fuck, she longed for Nate’s approval – but she knew she’d never get it. Not only because he wouldn’t approve of someone like Maxson, but because he couldn’t. He was fucking dead and dead people couldn’t communicate. “There’s no changing that part of him – the part that’s a soldier – because that’s always been who he is. His family created the Brotherhood and that was always his destiny. He was never given any other choice and I’m not sure he even _wants_ any other options, anyway.”

One of Nora’s hands went to her shoulder, rubbing her fingers along the bruises that almost completely covered her freckled skin, only to wince at the pain. Fuck, she’d need to tell Nate about that, too, wouldn’t she?

“When I saw Shaun earlier, he saw some bruises on my neck and thought Arthur was abusing me. I actually _snorted_ at the question, Nate. I fucking _snorted_ because it was just that funny.” The grin on her face didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But I know _you_ can tell what kind of bruises they are – you always loved when I gifted them to you.” Nate loved being bitten and she often littered his chest with marks because he asked her to. “I know he’s my son, though, because he was fucking annoyingly persistent in asking what caused them, even after I said they were consensual and asked him to drop it. He just replied with how them being consensual ‘made no sense.’ And, fuck, I think our sixty-year-old son is a goddamn virgin. As if things couldn’t get any sadder, huh?” Her hand slapped onto her face, covering her eyes as if she was embarrassed. “I am _not_ having ‘the talk’ with our elderly son. That’s just not happening.”

Her hand fell back to her lap and she went quiet, fingers playing with Nate’s wedding band again, just spinning it around as she thought. She needed to tell him about the pregnancy, but she wasn’t sure how – and she was terrified to do so. Really, she had no idea _why_ she was scared to tell her dead husband she was pregnant with another man’s child, because it wasn’t like he could react or tell her he disapproved or anything.

“Okay, so… I got some news the other day. Only four people know so far and one of them was an accident because Arthur is an idiot sometimes, but otherwise it’s just me, him, and Shaun who know. Shaun found out on his own, but I wanted you to be next. So… here goes.”

Well, maybe here did not go because Nora just took in a deep breath and sat there for a few minutes before finally continuing.

“I’m pregnant.” The words came out in a whisper before she fell silent again, and her admission seemed to hit her heavily as tears began welling in her eyes. She waited for some sort of reaction – maybe a sign or something that her husband had heard her; but nothing happened, as expected. Instead, tears began to slip over her eyelids as she stared at the rock beside her, wishing Nate could comfort her.

_Whore._

But Nate was dead. And while that reality had hit her long ago, the weight of it still sat heavily on her shoulders, just as dense as the day she’d watched him get murdered and the day she’d escaped her icy prison. She still dealt with the fact her family was gone and she’d never really learned to cope with it; every time the vault dweller was alone, she was forced to remember. She could never forget.

“Please don’t hate me for replacing you,” she said quietly, echoing Shaun’s words as a few tears slipped down her freckled cheeks. “I don’t _want_ to replace you, I just… I didn’t expect it to happen; it just sorta did. I love you more than anything, baby. More than life its-fucking-self.”

_Weak._

Nora uncrossed her legs and pulled them to her chest, her arms crossing atop her knees and her forehead pressing onto her forearms. “I’m so sorry, Nate. I should have kept my legs closed, but I didn’t, and now I’ve fallen for someone and gotten pregnant and I’m just going to end up replacing you and Shaun when that should never happen. Fuck, she was right, wasn’t she? I’m just a fucking whore.”

Her mother had started calling her a whore when she was a preteen and the word just sunk in – attached itself to her. After a while, she eventually wanted to prove it to be true, so she’d lost her virginity at fifteen to a boyfriend who broke up with her soon after, then slept with a few different people throughout her high school years before she graduated and met Nate. 

But how long had she waited after she began to mourn Nate before she was opening her legs for someone else? For _two_ different men, at that? It wasn’t long.

_Slut._

Her forearms went atop her head and she buried her face between her biceps. “I just keep fucking up. If I’d have just gotten the courage to kill myself before we met, then neither of us would be in this situation. You could have found someone who was actually good for you, Shaun wouldn’t have been born and stolen to be made into a goddamn monster, and I wouldn’t have looked to replace you after you were killed, only to fall for a man seven years younger than me and get pregnant with his fucking child when he’s still pretty much a kid himself.”

_Feeble._

Tears were streaming down her face as she curled in on herself, her crying becoming heavier though it was muffled by her arms. “And this baby is going to be a fucking soldier, too. I can’t even stop that. I can’t get away from that shit. What the fuck have I done, Nate?”

_Powerless._

The vaultie’s nails were pushed into the back of her head, digging into her scalp and leaving behind crescent indentations in her skin. “I don’t want to replace you and Shaun. I can’t. I can’t do that— _Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t.”_ Nora shook her quickly. “You’re everything to me, baby. I won’t replace you. I’d rather die alone than do that. I’d rather fucking kill myself than do that.”

_Coward._

She pushed her nails in harder until trickles of blood were sliding down the back of her scalp from the spots she was pressing into, the skin being broken. “I want to fucking die so bad, Nate. I just want to end it all. I should just go to the fucking Institute and shoot him in the head and then shoot myself, but I’m a fucking coward and I can’t even do that right. Why can’t I do anything right?”

_Dastard._

Her nails were dragged forward, the skin breaking in long scratches that allowed blood to rise to the top of the fresh wounds and seep down her scalp. It’d been a long time since she’d hurt herself, but she knew she wanted to hurt. She wanted to make herself hurt because she knew Nate would be hurting by what she’d done – what she was _still_ doing. Nora never wanted to hurt him; never wanted to wound her husband, but here she was, injuring him by finding someone to replace him with and even replacing their fucking son.

_Harlot._

“No, no, no, no,” she mumbled to herself, her head shaking again, “I can’t do this. I can’t. Please forgive me, Nate. I’m so sorry. I fucked it all up so bad and I don’t know what to do; I just keep fucking it up. I don’t know how to fix it.” Nora shifted her body to lay down on her right side, her right arm curled beneath her head as her face was near the rock that marked where her husband was laid to rest for eternity. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.”_

She couldn’t stop sobbing, her hand resting on top of the cool rock as she curled her knees against herself while she laid there, tears streaming from her eyes. “I hate myself so much.” And she did – Nora had always hated herself; she’d never stopped. She was taught to hate herself since she was very young; told that she was worthless and didn’t deserve to take up space in this world. She was in a different world now and still, she knew her mother would say the same.

But when she was with Nate, she’d learned to hate herself a little less each day. Now? All that progress had disappeared. “It’s okay if you hate me, too, baby. I don’t blame you; I’ll accept it. I hate myself more than anyone could ever hate me, anyway.”

The vaultie scooted closer to the rock, having it pressed against her upper chest as she tried to calm her breathing down while staring at the wedding bands on her finger – but it only made her sob more. The two black rings reminded her of the man she’d fallen in love with in such a short time; the man who’d made the world a better place by just existing. The man who made her want to live despite all the trauma she’d experienced with people who told her she didn’t deserve to live.

Blurry eyes scanned over the engraving on the outside of his band. She’d avoided looking at it, knowing it would hurt too much; but, shit, she deserved to hurt right now, didn’t she? And if reading the words on their wedding bands hurt her, then she had to do it.

His band was thicker and wider, and when she spun it, she read the small, white, cursive letters—

_All the pain in this world won’t stop us now_

And she knew on the inside of the ring where it had sat against his finger oh so long ago, the rest of the engraving remained—

_For we have each other_

Nora read the outside engraving over and over, punishing herself for betraying her husband and her son, and not even needing to look at her own ring to know it continued from his—

_All the hate in this world can’t tear us apart_

With the inside of it continuing—

_This love is forever_

But now, here she was, wearing both their rings because the world had, in fact, stopped them and tore them apart due to hate and pain – hate and pain caused by war.

Nora would reunite her family soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The engravings on the rings are lyrics from the song This World Can’t Tear Us Apart by Trivium.


	59. Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re, uh, not really sure what your relationship with Nora is, but we know you helped her bury Nate, so…”

Arthur always kept a bag packed for missions in case he needed to go into the field on immediate notice and had no time to prepare; the bag mostly held things like weapons, ammo, first aid, and other similar items. But since the last time he’d been called to Sanctuary, he kept _another_ bag packed of a few pairs of clean clothes just in case he needed to leave again – specifically for Nora. And when he received the radio call that he needed to get to Sanctuary as soon as possible, all he had to do was grab his bag and go.

The ‘bird landed in the same spot as usual – right outside the settlement, near the bridge. He’d left Final Judgement back on the Prydwen despite Kells telling him how bad of an idea that was, but he’d brought a laser rifle with him that was strapped to his back so it shouldn’t have been such a huge deal. And he’d come alone rather than bringing Danse with him like the lancer-captain strongly suggested, which he knew he’d probably have to hear about upon his return.

When he left the ‘bird, he waved the lancer off before quickly starting into the settlement, only just getting across the rickety bridge before being greeted by Sturges. The man’s voice was easily recognizable due to the southern drawl and smooth tone, so Arthur immediately knew it was him who’d contacted the Prydwen as soon as he heard the familiar voice on the radio.

“Elder Maxson,” Sturges greeted.

“Sturges,” Arthur returned, “Thank you for contacting me. Is she up by his grave?”

“Yeah, she’s up there,” the mechanic confirmed. He seemed nervous, though Arthur could only guess that was the case because the guy was rubbing the back of his neck and glancing up in the direction of the vault; not that he could really be blamed for feeling that way.

“I’m going to drop my bag and gun off first before I head up there. Is anyone with her now?” the Elder asked as they headed toward Nora’s house.

“Yeah, Preston is. Preston Garvey. He’s tryin’ to talk with her but she just ain’t respondin’.”

“No, I didn’t think she would be,” Arthur admitted.

“Has this kinda thing happened before?”

“Sort of. Not this exactly, but she’s done the whole thing of mentally checking out for short periods of time. It’s just never been this extreme.” Arthur scratched at his beard just as they reached Nora’s home and made their way inside. The Elder dropped his bag onto the couch, his gun beside it, and then slipped his battle coat off to leave beside the bag before motioning to Sturges he was ready.

══════════════════

Nora was… not well.

And that was putting it _very_ mildly.

She’d left early that morning for the Institute though he wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, but by the looks of how dazed she was now and how the sun was almost completely gone, he could guess she’d been by Nate’s grave for quite some time. Most of the day, really. The vaultie was curled around the rock that was used as a marker at the head of the grave, one arm beneath her head so she was resting on her bicep and the other holding the stone close to her chest as if she was protecting it; holding onto it for dear life, like a mother coyote.

Preston was near her, his hand gently stroking her hair in an attempt to be comforting while he tried to get her to respond as he spoke soft words, but all she did was just stare off in the distance with her lips slightly parted and the occasional tear slipping from her eyes, only to fall down the side of her face and disappear onto the fabric of her clothing.

She was there, but she wasn’t. It was like the time they were having sex after she’d come back from her mission of hunting down a courser, where she’d just checked out in the middle of them fucking not once, but twice – and even while she was staring right at him, breathing heavily, she wasn’t actually _there._ He’d seen her do it multiple times on different occasions but it was never anywhere to this extent – nowhere near this bad. It was worrisome, especially now with her being pregnant. 

When Arthur and Sturges grew closer, Preston looked up to them, his eyebrows furrowed and his face filled with worry. There was a lantern near him that illuminated the area since it was getting darker, and the red beam of his laser musket caused a slightly red glow against his leg from the ground.

“Elder Maxson,” the Colonel greeted.

“Colonel Garvey,” Arthur returned.

“Please, just Preston.”

“Very well. And you two may just call me Arthur. No need for decorum here.”

When Preston and Sturges nodded, the Elder returned his eyes to Nora, though she didn’t seem to have even realized anything around her changed. He approached and crouched down beside her, his hand gently touching her face and feeling how cold her skin was – which he knew would only grow colder since the Commonwealth got fairly chilly at night, especially since it was getting close to winter. It was good they found her before it got completely dark and before she ended up spending the entire night out here. 

“We don’t know how long she’s been like this,” Preston said, “Codsworth told us she showed up fairly early today and came up here but then just never came back down. He came to check on her, but she didn’t respond to him, so he got us; we’ve tried to get her to respond but she just… won’t. So, we called you.”

“We’re, uh, not really sure what your relationship with Nora is, but we know you helped her bury Nate, so…” Sturges added.

Arthur sighed and gently brushed Nora’s hair from her face. “We’re in a relationship and she’s pregnant with my child.”

Sturges and Preston both went wide-eyed and looked at one another. Perhaps revealing her pregnancy wasn’t the best idea but he didn’t really care at the moment; Nora wasn’t doing well and he needed to figure out how to help her. He paid the two men no mind as they glanced at one another and instead kept his attention on Nora.

“Has anyone tried to move her?”

“Yes. We tried a couple different times, but she just screams and fights until we let her go, then goes back to that same spot,” Preston answered.

“And has anyone tried moving the rock?”

“… Well, no. We didn’t think the rock had anything to do with it.”

“Good,” Arthur replied. “Because that’s what she’s clinging to.” He reached down and put his fingers on the stone, watching her face for any reaction. She didn’t seem to respond to him just touching it – but when he started scooting it away, even just the slightest, her body tensed, and she pulled it back against her chest. “It was used as a marker for her late husband’s grave,” he explained, and the two other men nodded.

“So, what do we do, then?” Preston asked.

Arthur was quiet for a second as he ran his fingers through Nora’s hair, but when he felt scabs beneath the red locks, he parted her hair to eye them, finding long scratches against her scalp with dried blood caked in different spots. “She hurt herself?” he asked.

“I think so. She’s got blood under her nails and a couple of them are broken, too.”

The Elder scratched at his beard, thinking it over. He could try to move her just like the others had but she’d likely just kick and scream in the same manner; he could try to move her with the stone, but that would probably only keep her in this same exact state and he wasn’t sure how dangerous that would be, considering no one knew how long she’d been like this.

He reached down and gently tapped his fingers against her cheek. “Nora,” he called; but when she didn’t answer nor react, he did it again, only to get the same response. If she didn’t answer to his regular voice and couldn’t get picked up, then he had one other option other than waiting it out or calling Cade – something she’d likely respond to.

“Nora,” he snapped, and the tone of voice he used was not one he used with anyone else other than his subs – it was one that she knew only because she heard it in the bedroom when he gave her orders. He could see her expressions in the dim light of the lantern and watched her eyebrows furrow. “Nora,” he snapped again, this time a bit sharper, and she blinked once more before her eyes moved a little. She was responding, just like he thought, because it meant he was going to take some of her control — some of her stress. Make life a little more bearable. “Eyes on me.”

“Now, hold on there, friend,” Sturges interjected. “There ain’t no good reason to start talkin’ to her like that.”

Arthur ignored him, however, and instead kept his attention on his vault dweller. She was looking in his direction but at his boots – not where he wanted. “Eyes up, pet.” Finally, she looked to his face, meeting his gaze; but her eyes were wide and bloodshot. “Good girl,” he praised, reaching down to stroke the back of his knuckles along her cheek. She watched him as he stood up and took a couple steps back. “Now, come here.”

“You do realize she’s not a dog, right?” Preston said as he stood, glaring at Arthur. Sturges didn’t look happy either; but when they realized Nora was standing and starting to move toward Arthur, they fell silent.

“No, no,” he said, holding his hand up with his palm facing her. She stopped in her tracks. “Bring the rock,” he added, pointing to the grey object she’d been clinging to moments ago. There was confusion written on her face at that as she glanced back at the rock before looking back at him, her lips parted with an unspoken question, but he already knew what she was going to ask. “Sturges and Preston will find another marker for his grave. Bring the rock.”

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly before turning and going back to grab the stone, then cradling it against her chest as she walked over to him. When she reached him, he held his arms out, which she eagerly collapsed against his body and buried her face against his chest while he pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

“Very good girl,” he whispered.

“Yeah, uh, you wanna tell us why the hell you’re treatin’ her that way?” Sturges asked, and Arthur just sighed from annoyance.

He was fairly certain Nora didn’t want her friends to know about her sex life and kinks that extended into how she handled stress, but he really didn’t want a huge scene to happen here nor for there to be a rumor going around that she was being abused and treated like an animal by the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel. That was just something neither of them needed – especially her. She’d have to forgive him for dishing out personal information, then.

“Nora gets overwhelmed easily,” he said as he cradled the vault dweller against his chest. “Taking her control helps keep that from happening as much and what you saw is often the only way she responds when she is already overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry, what? None of this makes any sense,” Preston said, glancing over to Sturges who was also seemingly confused.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger; how was he supposed to explain to them he was her Dom without them thinking negatively? “Can you just accept the fact she enjoys being told what to do by me, inside and outside the bedroom, and that it helps snap her out of whatever this is?”

Accept it, they did.

══════════════════

They were by the bridge, waiting for the vertibird; he had his arms wrapped around her as he was leaned back against the concrete pillar that was just inside the settlement, her face buried in his chest. He heard someone approaching from within the settlement – footsteps that were light but weary and slow. Arthur didn’t bother turning to see who it was, knowing they’d approach him, regardless.

“You.”

An old woman’s voice that was so frail and winded hit his ears, and he turned his head just enough to see her walk before him; he thought she might break just from speaking because of how she sounded.

“I’ve seen you,” she said with a point of her crooked, swollen finger. Arthur could only furrow his eyebrows as he watched her; she was small, maybe an inch or two taller than Nora, but she was hunched over with bad posture. “You’re the top of the food chain; you protect your soldiers better than the thickest armor. But… you shed blood. So much blood.”

The old crone shook her head as she looked him up and down, seeming to not care that Nora was pressed against his chest; but after a few seconds of silence, she allowed a wide grin to spread across her face – it was eerie, and Arthur found himself almost frozen in place with his breath hitching. “Well, would you look at that: the boy with a soul forged from eternal steel and no feelings found himself in love.”

The Elder had seen people high on chems before; plenty of his soldiers experimented with them – especially in Goodneighbor, that fucking place – for him to know what an addict looked like and what someone who was high as the goddamn Prydwen looked like. And this woman was clearly high. On what? He had no idea. But she was definitely riding it, if her hazy blue eyes were anything to go by.

“Still think you’re a monster?” she asked.

His mouth opened just slightly as he wanted to question how the hell she knew that about him – how she knew he thought of himself that way, how she knew _others_ thought of him that way, how she knew any of those things about him – but she continued before he could.

“Don’t worry, kid. She loves you and your babies will love you, too. But that don’t mean your love won’t be put to the test. If you truly care for your family, you’ll protect them no matter what. Even against your own. Even against yourself.” The sound of a vertibird in the distance caught her attention and she turned to look at it as it approached, its lights giving away its location in the sky. “Well, looks like your ride is here,” she said as she turned back around to face him. Her eyes finally drifted down to Nora, studying the side of the vault dweller’s face. “She’ll be okay. Just needs time.” She made eye contact with him again. “Have a safe trip, Elder,” she said before she started moving back into the settlement.

Arthur just stood there, mouth slightly open as he had a dumbfounded look on his face, unable to even say anything – but when her voice called to him again, he could only turn to look.

“Oh, and Maxson? She don’t think you’re a monster, but if you give her enough of a reason to, she will.” Arthur looked away from the old lady, turning his gaze down to Nora who had her eyes closed as she leaned against his chest, her arms wrapped around his middle and beneath his battle coat. “Good luck, kid. You’re gonna need it,” the woman called before leaving.

What the fuck just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mama Murphy is a creep


	60. Spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m so proud of you.”
> 
> “Why?” she whispered, and he barely heard it over the showerhead.
> 
> “Because you’re so strong,” he replied. “After everything that’s happened, you’re still fighting. You’re strong, Nora. My beautiful, strong girl.” He placed a gentle kiss against her shoulder. “You could take on the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: talk of abortion

_Well, would you look at that: the boy with a soul forged from eternal steel and no feelings found himself in love._

_Found himself in love._

_In love._

The long ride from Sanctuary to the Prydwen was quiet aside from the whirring of the vertibird’s motor and blades as it flew through the sky, resembling old helicopters before the efficiency of ‘birds were created. But the quietness didn’t represent what was happening inside Arthur’s head as his thoughts raced a mile a minute, demanding he pay them attention. He couldn’t stop thinking about the old woman who’d approached him; she knew exactly who he was, but that wasn’t necessarily surprising because of his name and title. The things she’d said, however, made him extremely uncomfortable.

She knew he was in love with Nora when even _he_ didn’t really know he was in love, specifically because he didn’t understand the emotion. Sure, he’d told the vaultie he loved her, but he knew that was what she wanted to hear – but he wanted to make her happy even while he was still figuring it out himself. There was no way the woman could have known if he’d truly fallen in love… right?

But she also unnerved him because she knew he’d spent so long thinking he had no feelings. Of course, he now knew he actually did have emotions, but he had no real understanding of them and struggled to put how he felt into words; and he even found it difficult to gauge how other people were feeling unless their facial expressions were clear as day. Nora often unintentionally granted him easy access to her emotions because she was such an emotional person who showed what she was feeling on her face, but she also rarely tried to hide them from him, anyway. And he could tell basic expressions, for the most part; furrowed eyebrows with a blank stare often meant confusion, narrowed eyes with a scowl often meant anger, Nora’s scrunched-up face with glassy eyes typically meant she was about to cry, among others. But the old woman seemed to understand more about him than most others, though she was someone he’d never met – and yet she knew these things about him; he was certain she did. The old crone spoke as if she knew him on a personal level, like she’d known him since he was a child.

And the final thing she’d said was how Nora didn’t think he was a monster but that could change if he gave her enough of a reason – which hit him deep. Arthur had tried to make her believe he was, in fact, a monster when he was trying to push her away before he’d finally admitted he wanted to be with her. He’d hurt her over and over, telling her what he wanted her to believe and see him as just so she would stop seeking more than sex from him. But she refused to see it and believe it. She never saw him as a monster.

And then the old woman wished him good luck, saying he needed it.

He couldn’t get it out of his fucking head.

What was next? Was someone going to say she wasn’t real, and it turned out to be a dream? That he was visited by a ghost of someone who died before the war? Or that she was a witch? Maybe _he’d_ taken up a chem habit without realizing it.

The arm of the Prydwen’s flight deck latched onto the vertibird and began pulling them in, shaking him out of his own head and announcing they were finally home. He’d kept Nora cradled against his chest as she sat between his bent knees while they were in the ‘bird, her body curled against him while she held the rock in her arms like it was her child – and he realized he couldn’t wait to see how she held their own child so close to her chest in a similar fashion; lovingly, protectively, motherly.

Arthur exited the vertibird first, helping her out right after, and then they began making their way into the ship. He remained close to her, keeping his hand on the small of her back – which his soldiers were quick to take notice of since he was not typically one for public displays of affection – as they received interested and confused looks. He knew part of it was from him touching her so affectionately, part because she was cradling a rock against her chest, and another part because she had long, visible scratches on her head. But he paid the soldiers no mind, instead walking through the flight deck and command deck, having her climb the ladder to the main deck first, then following after, before entering their quarters. The door was shut and locked behind them before the Elder dropped his bag and rifle nearby, mumbling that he’d deal with it later, but his attention turned to Nora as she just stopped and stood in the middle of the room. He circled to be in front of her, his eyes looking down at the stone for just a moment before flicking back up to meet her gaze.

She probably didn’t want to put it down, but he wasn’t about to let her carry it everywhere she went; that was unhealthy and would certainly cause further problems. Besides, it’d definitely be uncomfortable to sleep with. The only other option, for now, was keeping it close yet still at a distance.

“Where do you want to put it?” he asked, and she looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, seemingly unsure what he was asking. “You can choose a spot in the room to put the rock; anywhere at all aside from the nightstand and my desk,” he explained as he stepped away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to unlace his boots. The nightstand didn’t need any more clutter on it and he didn’t want to smack the rock every morning when reaching for the alarm; and putting something of Nate’s on his desk just felt wrong, like the two men were intruding on one another even though that clearly wasn’t the case since her late husband was dead.

Nora looked down at the stone in her hands before she glanced around the room, then took slow steps while debating where to put it. He watched her while unlacing the first boot and kicking it off, then began working on the other one, observing how she set the rock down on the dresser before shaking her head and picking it back up, then moving somewhere else. The vaultie repeated the action a few different times in numerous spots, seeming unsatisfied with each location she chose just like she had with Nate’s grave at first, until she settled with putting it on the table.

He regretted not saying the table was also off-limits since it would certainly get in the way of meetings, but he also knew that if it helped her heal, then she could put the damn thing on his head for the next week for all he cared – just so long as it helped.

When she was satisfied with where she’d placed it on the table – closest end to the door – she turned her eyes back to him, meeting his gaze, before approaching. Arthur stood, ready to meet her halfway, but her walk was quick and before he could take more than one step, she’d collapsed against him and buried her face in his chest, quietly crying. The only thing he could do was let out a soft sigh, wrap his arms around her to hold her tightly against him, and gently pet her hair.

“It’s okay, love,” he whispered, “Let’s get you a stimpack for your scratches, take a shower, and then lay down for the night, yeah? That sound good?” he asked. Nora seemed to hesitate but eventually nodded her head; he nudged her in the direction of the bathroom, grabbing a stimpack from his desk drawer along the way.

It was times like this he wished they had actual hot water for showers because it would have certainly helped Nora relax, but the Prydwen only had lukewarm water, though it was still better than what she would have found anywhere else in the Commonwealth, surely.

After she undressed, he injected the stimpack into the muscle of her shoulder, trying to get it as close to the wounds as possible so they’d heal quicker, then set the empty pack on the edge of the sink before he followed her into the shower. She ducked under the stream, letting her hair get wet and the water to run over her skin, its slight heat soothing her sore muscles that were surely tense from stress.

He helped her bathe, being slow and gentle as he ran the soapy cloth over her skin to wash away the dirt and grime that had accumulated from her laying on the ground for however long. She always enjoyed when he spent time washing her, the action always intimate because it showed he cared, and he knew right now she needed to know he cared, especially.

“You’re such a good girl,” he crooned into her ear as he gently ran the cloth along her collarbone where some of the dark bruises he’d gifted her late last night were contrasting with the paleness of her wet skin, hiding her freckles. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Why?” she whispered; he barely heard it over the showerhead.

“Because you’re so strong,” he replied. “After everything that’s happened, you’re still fighting. You’re strong, Nora. My beautiful, strong girl.” He placed a gentle kiss against her shoulder. “You could take on the world.”

She didn’t say anything else and he knew it was because she didn’t believe him; and while he wished she did, he also knew he would keep taking care of her for as long as she needed and until she thought otherwise.

About a quarter of the way through their shower, however, he realized she was mentally checking in and out again. It fluctuated between how long she came and went, his voice occasionally bringing her back, but his touch not seeming to do anything. He let her go back and forth, still praising her about how strong she was, how beautiful she was, how much he cared – and all the while he made sure to be gentle as he ran the cloth over her skin, and was especially careful not to press himself against her back like he usually would.

Nora was especially fragile right now and he didn’t want her to think he wanted to fuck, especially when she was in this state of mind; there was a good chance it might cause her to either breakdown with thinking he only cared about her for sex or she might try to fuck him because she saw herself as only good for sex – or maybe even both. And while he had no problem with people thinking he was only good for war and sex, that wasn’t something he wanted Nora to think about herself.

Gently washing her hair with the prewar shampoo he’d gotten her kept her checked in; he spent extra time running his fingers through her hair, garnering soft noises of pleasure from deep in her chest. She’d tipped her head back and leaned her upper body against his chest as he massaged her scalp, forcing out the caked blood and washing off the old scabs of her scratches so they could form anew until the stimpack completely healed them away; and he gave the same treatment to the shaved part of her head, as well, which she certainly seemed to appreciate.

After he finished rinsing her hair out, Arthur shut the water off and leaned down to place a few gentle kisses along her shoulder. He could tell the stimpack was already working because the bruises were beginning to look slightly lighter in color – and as much of a shame that was, he knew he could always gift her more some other time.

His hand gently patted her hip. “Come, love. Let’s dry off and lay down.”

Nora didn’t say a word as she stepped out of the shower, moving to grab a towel and drying herself off as he did the same. He watched her carefully, trying to formulate some sort of idea on how he could help her fight her demons. There were too many, he knew that; Nate’s death had left her an entire new arena to fight in that she was unfamiliar with and there were far too many obstacles to hurdle over in her fight for survival, especially since the demons she was fighting were unfamiliar to her. She was even running out of ammo and probably carrying a gun much too heavy for her – which meant Arthur needed to help but he just wasn’t sure how yet. He needed to form a battleplan; that was what he was good at.

When they were in the main room, both still naked as they planned to lay down for bed, he knew her eyes were immediately on the rock on the table and her lips were undoubtedly downturned into a frown. She walked by it, unable to tear her gaze away until she stood in the middle of the room again and just… stopped. Arthur came up behind her, a hand gently placed on her back before he moved around to her front, his hand sliding to her hip while the other went to cup her jaw so she’d look at him.

“Speak.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Getting pregnant.”

The Elder stared at her in confusion, unsure why she would apologize to him for getting pregnant when he was just as much at fault as her; if anything, _he_ should be apologizing to _her_ because she was much more devastated about the news than he was. “Nora, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do, though.”

The hand on her jaw slid to cup the back of her neck as he leaned down and pressed their foreheads together. “What could you possible need to be sorry for?”

“Because I don’t want it,” she admitted quietly.

Arthur’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyebrows furrowed; he stared down at her for a long moment before his eyes closed and he let out a long, slow breath. Part of him knew this was coming – that she’d want to find a way to get rid of it because of the stress she was going through – but another part of him hoped this wasn’t something she’d truly consider. There weren’t really any options in the wasteland for her to even have, so not wanting a child didn’t even matter because she couldn’t safely change that, anyway.

“Nora, there’s nothing you can do at this point,” he said gently.

“Shaun said abortions are possible in the Institute.” Her voice was quiet, but she was so sure about the information as if she trusted her elderly son who she knew basically nothing about and despite everything he’d done to hurt people – despite how he’d left her frozen for so long when he had every opportunity to free her and reunite mother and son. Now, she was actually considering it.

“No. That’s not happening,” he said firmly, pulling his face away from hers but keeping one hand on her hip and the other on the back of her neck. “Even if I agreed with you getting one, allowing the _Institute,_ of all places, to perform it is out of the question.”

“It’s not your decision, Arthur.” Her tone was flat now, like she’d already made the decision and it was final – like she’d lost every ability to care. And, at that moment, he realized she was going to get rid of their unborn child no matter what – even if it wasn’t done through the Institute. And if the Institute was truly the only safe way to get an abortion…

That terrified him. 

Arthur cupped her face gently, tilting her head so she was looking up at him. He wasn’t sure if the panic and fear he felt was written on his face, but he knew both feelings were boiling in his gut. “Nora, please. You can’t.”

“I have to.”

“Why? Why do you have to?” The question was slightly frantic. His chest was aching; he didn’t think he was ready for children but, _fuck,_ he was ready to start a life with Nora. That was what he wanted. It was what he _needed._ She gave him more purpose than the fucking Brotherhood ever had.

“Because I do. Please don’t make this difficult.” She wasn’t looking at his eyes – no, she refused to. She was looking slightly lower. His cheek, perhaps. 

He could feel his breathing speed up; something was coming up his throat – not bile, but something else. Panic and fear, maybe? Whatever it was, it kept getting stuck. “Tell me why, Nora. You at least owe me that.”

The vaultie’s eyes looked down at his chin as she crinkled her brow; he went quiet but didn’t release her face, knowing she was thinking it over, so he gave her enough time to gather her thoughts properly even though every second of silence was agony for him, like she was stabbing him in the chest over and over and over, claiming him as the post-apocalyptic Julius Caesar. But nearly half a minute later, she finally spoke.

“I don’t want to replace Nate and Shaun.”

It was almost like a switch in his head had flipped at her words, because Arthur immediately went from feeling panicky and fearful and anxious to feeling completely outraged – and it had been a while since he’d felt so fucking angry. “You want to get rid of our unborn child because you think you’re replacing the family you lost?”

The sudden change in emotions was making his head spin; the walls he’d carefully constructed around himself were toppling down, the emotions he’d managed to hide even from himself to the point where he believed he didn’t have them now spilling out of the cracks, raw and unfiltered. He had no control over them any longer.

Nora didn’t recoil or cower or back down from his aggressive tone, but she did just barely flinch at his words while she stared up at him. “I will be replacing them if I have this baby, yes.”

“And, what, you’re just going to leave me because you think I’ll be replacing Nate?”

She opened her mouth just slightly as if she was going to say something, but her brows furrowed even more, and she snapped her jaw shut again. He could see those royal blue eyes growing glassy.

“Do you think losing your husband and son means you’re destined to be alone? That you aren’t allowed to move on because you’ll somehow be betraying their memories?” There was hesitation, but she gave a slight nod of her head. “And who told you that?”

Nora broke eye contact again, her gaze falling to the ground as her jaw tensed, and she shook her head, not wanting to hand over a name. He couldn’t blame her for not dishing the information out – it was a smart move because she knew he’d fucking kill whoever was trying to take her away from him. He’d find the person who was convincing her that she didn’t deserve to move on and be happy and start a new family and make them fucking regret ever telling her any of that bullshit, especially when she was so goddamn vulnerable. Nora was _his,_ and she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Look at me,” he growled, but she just shook her head again – so he changed his tone to the one she would always listen to. “Eyes on me, Nora.” And when her eyes snapped up to his face, he reached down and grabbed her hand, putting her palm flat on his bare left pectoral. “Do you feel that?” he asked, knowing the _thump, thump, thump_ of his heartbeat was a rapid kickdrum threatening to burst from his chest. It made him ache, just as it always did.

“Yes,” she answered quietly, confusion washing over her face.

“That rate never happened so frequently until you came around. Until you made me lose every ounce of control I had over my life, then made me claw it back from you. Until you fucked with my head by just _existing_ and made me start experiencing all this shit I still don’t understand. And now you’re saying you want to just… what, throw it all away?”

Her eyes were glassier as tears were welling in them and her jaw was quivering; she tried to pull her hand away, but he didn’t let her. Instead, he just held it tighter against his chest. “Arthur,” she whispered, the sound begging him to stop while she turned her face away from him.

“Eyes up,” he snapped, and she looked back at him, those tears now having spilled over her lower lids and slipped down her freckled cheeks. “This?” he said as he lifted her hand, heavily slapping it against his chest a few times right above his heart that was still _thumping_ beneath the skin – it was going so fast he thought he might be giving himself a heart attack as all these fucking emotions kept spilling out of him. “This is because of you. I don’t know how the fuck you managed it, but you did. You got under my armor and now? Now, you’re here for good. Do you understand me?”

Nora crinkled her face as more tears streaked down her cheeks in rivulets and she just nodded her head. He squeezed her hand, but then she reached forward and grabbed his free one, putting his palm against her chest and letting him feel her own rapid heartbeat; it was just as fast as his, if not slightly faster, and it made his chest ache again.

“I don’t… communicate well, Nora. This is probably as good as it will ever get. I don’t understand what I’m feeling, and I have trouble determining what you’re feeling. But I know no one else has ever done this sort of shit to me before and I want—” he cut himself off, eyebrows furrowing as his gaze flicked back and forth between her crying eyes while he searched for the words. Everything was so overwhelming right now, all of it getting forced out; he didn’t know how to handle it. “I want to be with you. I want to marry you and have a family with you.”

But the Elder found himself on his knees in front of her, the hand that was holding hers to his chest now on her bare hip while his other one remained above her heart, still feeling it _thump, thump, thumping._ His head was tipped down for a second as he thought, then he looked back up at her, finding her staring down at him, waiting as her face was red from crying, the tears still flowing.

“I’m not letting you go, baby. I can’t. I won’t,” he said as they held eye contact for a few more seconds, only for him to close his eyes before he leaned in, pressing his forehead against her bare stomach. The fingers on her hip dug in deep against her skin, though she didn’t seem to care. “Fuck, Nora,” he said quietly against her skin; the words were strained. “I won’t let you leave. And I won’t let you get rid of our baby. You’re stuck here with me. Both of you are. Do you understand me?”

They were both quiet for a long while, Arthur just trying to calm himself after the overflow of emotions he didn’t really understand nor want was starting to die down while the cracks in his carefully constructed walls were being repaired. He kept his eyes closed and his face pressed against her stomach, one hand still on her hip and the other still being held over her heart, her hand over his. But the feeling of delicate fingers touching the top of his head, running through his damp hair, made him release a long breath.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

That was all he needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> raw arthur is sad arthur


	61. Cram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.
> 
> Danse felt some of the water slip down his throat before he was ready, choking him as he tried to abruptly swallow it down so he could breathe; some of the liquid spilled from his mouth and onto his chest and lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: a sort of predator/prey role play, I guess?

He shifted uncomfortably, wiggling where he sat with his back against the railing, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Nora sat directly across from him as she leaned back against the railing on the opposite side, her legs outstretched on either side of his with his feet between her knees as they faced one another. She’d been staring at him for the past minute or so while they lounged on the top walkway of the Prydwen, her eyes slightly narrowed, lips pursed, and arms crossed over her chest as if she was judging him for something; and the only thing he could do in response was to also cross his arms over his chest and stare back at her with furrowed eyebrows, hoping she’d eventually stop giving him that look because it was so damn _uncomfortable._

“Lance.”

“No.”

“Chance.”

“No.”

“Pants.”

“That’s not even a name.”

Nora pursed her lips a little more, huffed through her nose, and went back to silently staring at him again, making him squirm. She’d been trying to guess what his first name might be but was just saying whatever names and words she could think of that rhymed with ‘Danse.’

“… Dance.”

“… That’s… what?”

“Dance. You know, like, dancing?” The vaultie did some sort of movement with her arms out to her side, shifting them in a kind of wave while her hips wiggled from her seated position on the floor, and he could only cock one eyebrow up as he watched her; but when she realized he was just staring in a mixture of confusion and amusement, she stopped and waved her hand toward him as if dismissing him entirely. “Whatever. I’ll just take it as a ‘no.’”

The paladin rolled his eyes, but Nora only went back to staring, her index finger having found the tip of her nose as she _tap, tap, tapped_ it and began to think. When she didn’t make any other guesses, however, he thought maybe she’d run out of names – and words – to throw out there, and he was certainly glad for it; at least until he realized that was not the case and she came up with the most ridiculous one yet.

“Hot pants.”

“Welp, this was fun,” he said as he pulled his legs beneath him and pushed himself to stand, his face now flushed a deep crimson from her guess. She always knew how to make him turn red.

“Okay, okay, okay, I’m sorry!” she yipped, clear amusement in her voice as she stood and followed after him when he started down the walkway.

Danse wasn’t sure where he was even going but he knew he needed to get away from the conversation before Nora made it any worse – and she _always_ made it worse.

”C’mon, Danse. Hang out with me. Don’t make me go bother Arthur, he’s been a real dick the past two days.”

He’d almost said, _’That’s what happens when you date the biggest asshole on the Prydwen,’_ but he knew that wasn’t fair – Teagan was the biggest asshole. Arthur was probably somewhere along third or fourth.

He was allowed to say that about his best friend, right? Or, well, think it?

“Don’t you have work to do, _Knight?”_ he asked, using her title as if that would even do anything. But Danse knew she didn’t have any work because putting Nora to work in the confines of the ship was useless; she did what she wanted to when aboard and only followed orders – somewhat – when sent on a mission within the Commonwealth. And if Arthur hadn’t given her a mission yet, there was probably a good reason for it.

Considering the paladin had the next couple days off, he wasn’t sure if he could get past the first one if he was supposed to be around her the entire time because Nora was _exhausting._ It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy spending time with her, because he certainly did, but her personality was so different from the people he was used to and he’d found it fairly difficult to deal with at first, which was why they’d bumped heads so often. He was much more used to it now, of course, but Nora could still wear him out fairly quickly. He had no idea how Arthur dealt with her all the time.

“Nope. Nothing. Nada. My calendar is wiiiiide open,” she declared as she trailed after him, remaining close to his right flank since she couldn’t exactly walk beside him because the walkways were too narrow for both of them to fit side-by-side. But he rounded the corner of one and started down the stairs, eventually ending up on the main level.

“Then what are you proposing we do?”

“I dunno. We could play cards or something. Just _please_ don’t make me deal with Arthur right now.”

Danse stopped walking, freezing in his step, and only then did he realize just how closely she was tailing him because she smacked right into his back – and fairly hard, too – before sending herself stumbling backward a few steps. Sometimes he forgot how fast she had to carry herself in order to keep up with him since he was over a foot taller than her, which meant she’d have a harder time with abrupt stops. Still, he turned to face her, watching as she straightened herself out like she hadn’t just done something embarrassing, then finally looked up to him with pleading eyes; he couldn’t help but take pity.

“Fine. Let’s go – but no liquor. What happened _last time_ we drank is not happening again,” he grumbled as he turned on his heel, heading toward his room. Things between him and Arthur hadn’t exactly been the same since the time the Elder walked in on them sleeping naked and cuddling; and even things between him and Nora hadn’t been the same, either – then again, that was likely more on Danse’s side than hers.

He left the door to his quarters open as they went inside – for good reason, obviously – before going to the tall cabinet in the corner of the room to search for the deck of cards he had stashed away. Nora claimed a spot on his bed, sitting at the head of it and propping his pillow behind her back as she waited. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for, pulling out a makeshift tin container he used to store the cards in from the cabinet; he knew there was a full deck since he’d recreated it himself just so it’d be complete. Tossing it onto the bed, Danse went to a different container that sat near his nightstand, pulling out a can of purified water and then finally taking his seat across from her at the foot of his bed.

“What are we playing?” he asked as he pulled the cards from the tin, setting it to the side while he shuffled them.

“Uh… hm. Ever play gin rummy?”

“Sure,” he answered with a nod.

Once he finished shuffling the cards, he dealt ten to both of them before placing the deck in the middle of the bed with one card beside it facing up. They both picked up their hands and Nora took her sweet time organizing what she received, occasionally glancing up at him with a nervous look on her face; he noticed, of course, but paid it no mind. And once she was ready, they went a few turns with an awkward silence that hung in the air that was very unlike her – because, as everyone knew, Nora was a talker who hated silence – before she decided to break it just as he had uncapped the can of water and was taking a sip of its contents.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

Danse felt some of the water slip down his throat before he was ready, choking him as he tried to abruptly swallow it down so he could breathe; some of the liquid spilled from his mouth and onto his chest and lap, though. He coughed a few times, regaining himself before he was finally staring at her with a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. “Wait… really?”

The vaultie took in a deep breath. “Yeah. A little over a month, according to Cade.” His eyes dropped to her stomach, staring at it for a few seconds until she was snapping her fingers directly in his line of sight. “Hey, hey,” she called, then dragged her hand up toward her face, his eyes following until he met her gaze. “Up here, big guy. Jesus. What is it with men and looking at my stomach like I’m gonna be showing already?”

The paladin let out a long sigh before closing the can of water, then quickly grabbed the cards off the bed before moving to sit beside her; she was forced to scoot over, which she quietly griped about since he almost knocked her off the single-person bed. When they were both settled, she leaned against his arm, though he wasn’t sure if it was because she was in danger of falling off the side of the mattress or because she wanted him to comfort her; but either way, he had to resist the urge to put his arm around her shoulders. He knew that would be a mistake in doing so.

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly.

“Almost a week. I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I was kinda scared to, if I’m being honest.”

Her admission struck hard and he glanced over to her with an insulted expression. “Why were you scared?”

“Because I know how you—” she stopped without finishing the sentence, but he already knew what she was going to say: she knew how he felt about her. And she did, because that was no longer a secret. He was unable to hide it and it just wouldn’t go away – at least not while he saw her every damn day. “I know you don’t exactly approve of me and Arthur.” Her voice had dropped in volume, now quieter than before, but he couldn’t determine if it was because she didn’t want anyone to hear her, because she was nervous, or because she was ashamed.

“Parker,” he began, sighing, “Don’t ever be afraid to tell me anything. We’re friends and I want you to be able to come to me about whatever you want, no matter what it is.”

“But you still don’t approve.”

One hand ran through his hair before he scratched dull nails at the back of his head. “It’s not that I don’t approve, Parker, it’s just—” he cut himself off, thinking on the words. How did he tell her he thought she deserved someone better than his best friend? Someone she didn’t have to break the walls of just to rebuild the man from the ground up? Someone who wouldn’t hurt her over and over again because he didn’t know how to _not_ hurt her? “I’ll be the first to admit Arthur has changed a lot. He’s not the same man he was before you came along and that’s… well, that’s significant. I think you are good for him.”

“And?”

The paladin was quiet for a moment, his eyes looking down at the deck of cards in his hand and scanning over the pattern of the top card, seeing its intricate design of red and white swords and scrolls that resembled medieval items. He wished he had a matching deck but those were rare; instead, many of his cards were of different patterns and colors. “And if being with him is what makes you happy, then that’s good enough for me.”

She was looking at him, he could feel it; her eyes were scanning the side of his face. He eventually turned his head so he could meet her gaze, letting her search him more fully for an answer he wasn’t going to give her; but after a few moments, a warm smile finally crossed her lips. “Okay,” she said quietly, and he knew she’d accepted the answer he’d offered – he was glad about that. It was certainly a relief.

Danse turned away again, his attention returning to the deck he held. “So, this baby,” he began as he reached over to take the ten cards from her hands, “You’re sure it’s not mine?”

Nora went quiet again and he could _feel_ her confusion fill up the room because she was unsure how to even take the question. They’d never had sex – they both knew that because they’d both gone to the Memory Den after their night drinking together – but he was asking a question that insinuated they had, and she clearly didn’t know how to process it. He could tell she was staring at him again and he knew what the look on her face was – furrowed brows, jaw agape, eyes filled with confusion and surprise and possibly a little bit of horror.

But what the vault dweller didn’t realize was that she rubbed off on people. Before she came around, Danse was entirely strait-laced and completely down-to-business; he didn’t make friends with his subordinates or joke around with really anyone, and he was only friends with Arthur primarily because of their history in the Capital Wasteland when the young Elder was still just a boy. But when Nora came around, she managed to change not just Arthur, but also Danse. The paladin had spent quite a bit of time with her in the field, giving her the opportunity to rub off on him and make him more relaxed around her; and the result?

Humor.

 _Bad_ humor, more specifically.

“That was a joke,” he finally said.

“You’re a fucking asshole!” she growled before shifting beside him, and he felt her fist connect with the side of his chest, though the awkward angle did nothing for her strike. Then again, Nora never was a hard hitter, which he always chalked up to her being prewar; she really needed some training in hand-to-hand combat, and maybe a bit of a workout, too.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t play along. “Ow, Parker, that hurt!” he exclaimed as he put his hand on the spot she’d hit. “Our baby must give you some Grognak strength or something.”

Surprise washed over her face again but only for a moment as her jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide, but she immediately turned it into a glower as her cheeks puffed out with air. “You know what? Fuck you!” she snarled before hitting him in the arm this time, the strike being more direct and yet still not even stinging. “And I knew you read all those stupid comic books Quinlan always sent you out to retrieve, you goddamn liar!”

══════════════════

Arthur was irritable the past couple days; exhausted and drained and distant and _especially_ irritable. And the fact he was coming from the back of the main deck, having spoken to Teagan about some shipments of food sent from one of Nora’s settlements being an ‘insignificant amount’ that the Brotherhood ‘shouldn’t have to compensate them for,’ it was safe to say he was _even more irritable_ than he was twenty minutes ago. 

And hearing his vault dweller shrieking at Danse in the paladin’s room did nothing to help.

_”You’re a fucking asshole!”_

_”Ow, Parker, that hurt! Our baby must give you some Grognak strength or something.”_

Danse’s words were all it took to make the young Elder seethe as he darted straight for his own quarters, quickly opening the door and moving inside – but he stopped before he got all the way in, instead squeezing the handle until his knuckles turned white as he glared down at the floor, thinking.

Arthur knew better – well, he’d _learned_ to know better – than to let his anger and jealousy and possessiveness get the better of him; or, rather, he would have known better if this were any other time. But for the past two days, ever since he’d spilled himself out to Nora when she was crying about how she didn’t want to replace Nate and Shaun, he’d felt raw. He became distant and aggressive and was unable to really control how he felt, and it was almost like he had reverted to his past self; so it only made sense that his possessiveness was showing its face when he heard Danse’s words. 

The joke the paladin made wasn’t over something insignificant – it was about Danse being the father of Arthur’s unborn child; and that was an unacceptable joke.

His instincts told him to prove that Nora was _his;_ to prove that the baby was _his._ And if he had to stake a claim, then he would; he wouldn’t make Danse watch as he fucked her again, of course, but he’d find some other way to ensure the paladin and everyone else aboard this fucking ship knew Nora was his and his alone, and that the child she carried was his fucking offspring.

The Elder took a deep breath, some part of his mind trying to be rational and explain that it was just how they joked and that they were just good friends who were having fun, but the largest part of him that was _screaming_ in his head was telling him what he desperately needed to do: _mine, mine, mine, mark, mark, mark, claim, claim, claim._

“Parker,” he snapped, his voice carrying through the metal hallway and straight into Danse’s room through the open door; he knew they both heard it loud and clear because they stopped speaking as she listened. “Here. Now.” The order wasn’t an optional one and it was given in the tone she always listened to, so he knew she’d obey. Arthur stepped further into the room, leaving the door open for her as he went and sat on the edge of the bed and began unlacing his boots.

She was in the doorway almost immediately; her bare feet having padded heavily across the floor from moving so quickly. “Arthur?” she said quietly, standing just inside the doorway but not moving in any further just yet.

“Come in here and shut and lock the door,” he commanded, pulling off the first boot before working on unlacing the second.

Nora bit her lower lip, glancing back into the hallway. “But I was hanging out with—” she started, but their eyes met, and she immediately cut off her own excuse, her voice fading out as she ducked her head and came into the room, shutting and locking the door.

He had no doubt she’d understand what he’d want, of course, which was why she was shifting from one foot to the other, chewing her lower lip as her hands were nervously wringing in front of her stomach as she waited for further orders. But Arthur took his time, finally pulling off the second boot and setting both to the side before his eyes raised to look at her once again.

“Strip.” The order was simple and yet she hesitated again as it looked like she might want to object; he brought himself to stand before she could. “I don’t have the patience for your disobedience today.”

She moved quickly when she began stripping, beginning with her shirt and bra, tossing them off to the side and then undoing her jeans and pushing them and her underwear off, kicking them away and leaving herself bare in front of him. And once she was naked, he looked her over just as he always did; but he only admired her for a few seconds before approaching.

There was clear caution exhibited in her expression as he prowled closer, and he knew that expression well – she would play with him; she’d let him be the predator he was by hunting her down as his prey, only to fuck her roughly as she fought back while he claimed his prize. While he claimed what was _his._ They’d only played this game once before, but he’d gotten a thrill from it and she’d enjoyed it just as much, and now he was ready to play again.

She must not have expected it when his hand shot out and grabbed her by the jaw, only to tug her forward to close the rest of the distance between them, making her stumble until she fell into his chest. Nora attempted to catch herself and then right her stance to stand up straight, but when he grabbed her shoulder with his free hand and spun her around so her back was against his front, the hand on her jaw now instead grabbing her throat without squeezing, she was still off balance, her legs a bit wobbly from the sudden movements. But Arthur allowed her to regain herself as one of her hands went to grab his wrist as he held her throat and the other went back to his hip.

It was then that he used the hand on her throat to tip her head to the side before he bit down on the side of her neck, teeth sinking in hard enough to leave behind a nice bruise that would surely be there for a while; and she only responded with a gasp and moan. He began grinding his clothed hips against her bare ass, though the fact he wasn’t even very hard yet didn’t matter because hearing the noises she made and the feel of her body against his would soon change that.

The moment he released her skin from his teeth, however, he dragged the flat of his tongue against the spot where he knew she’d bruise. “You are mine, Nora. Do you understand me?”

“Arthur,” she whispered, but he bucked his hips against her ass a bit harder, making her gasp.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’m yours.”

“Good girl,” he praised before he began guiding her toward the table without pulling away; once they were close enough, Arthur’s hand removed from her throat and he shoved her against the furniture, using a hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over it, her forearms seeming to take the brunt of the fall. His clothed groin was still pressed against her bare ass, his cock now mostly hard as he was still grinding against her using slow, heavy movements to make sure she felt all of him while he was getting fully hard with each grind. One of his hands went to the back of her neck, holding her head down while the other went flat onto the table as he leaned over her.

Their game was paused for now, it seemed.

“No one will ever touch you. They will never fuck you. They will never have you like I do.” His words were growled, and he felt her shiver beneath him; she seemed to enjoy the sheer possessiveness he was dishing out. Which was good because at this point, he couldn’t fucking control it. “Say it.”

Nora gasped when he pushed his hips hard against her, his clothed cock pressing right against her clit. “No one will ever touch me.” He pushed against the same spot again, forcing out another gasp. “They will never fuck me.” And again. “They will never have me like you do.”

“Good girl,” he praised again. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Use my name.”

The vaultie shivered again and let out a small moan after he bucked his hips against her once more, though he rewarded her for the noise by pulling his hips away from her ass, only to slam them against her to coax out an even louder one. _”Fuck._ I belong to Arthur Maxson.”

“Yes,” the Elder purred as he leaned down more, curving his clothed body against her bare back. “Yes, you do. You belong to _me,_ Nora, and you will _always_ belong to me. No one else.” He clamped his teeth down on the back of her shoulder, biting hard enough to bruise but not holding the skin between his teeth for long. “Not Danse,” he growled before biting another spot, still keeping the bite hard but brief. “Not MacCready,” he added before biting another spot. “Not the Minutemen,” another bite, this time on the top of her spine. “Not even the fucking Brotherhood,” he snarled, and this bite – the final one – was made in the crook of her neck and shoulder, harder than the others, and caused her to cry out.

When he released her skin from his teeth after holding it a bit longer than the other bites, his lips moved up to hover right beside her ear, close enough that she could feel and hear him breathe; and when he spoke, his voice was a low, growling whisper. “And if I need to carve my fucking name on your chest just so you and everyone else are reminded exactly who you belong to, then I will. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered quietly.

“Good.” Arthur stood up straight then, undoing his jumpsuit quickly and pushing it and his underwear down, kicking them away; but the moment he started pulling his undershirt up and over his head, he heard her moving, and he was quick to remove the clothing from in front of his face, leaving his holotags to _clink_ against his chest as they settled.

She’d went back into her role as prey, it seemed, and began fleeing by climbing onto the table and trying to crawl off it to the other side; but Nora was clumsy and nowhere near as fast as him, and despite how he’d missed the grab he made to her ankle, he was still able to round the table quickly and reach her before she was able to duck beneath it or run again, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her to stand with her back against him.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” he growled into her ear as his hands gripped her upper arms, holding her still and her back flush against his chest.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her head turning so she could glance back at him; but he shoved her down against the table again, this time a little harder than before so the wind was knocked out of her. One hand was at the back of her neck again, holding her down, while the other went to her thigh, pulling it up and hoisting it onto the table so she was balancing on one leg on her tiptoes with his groin flush against her.

Arthur began rubbing the length of his cock against her folds, making her shiver beneath him as he rocked his hips back and forth, teasing her with it – at least until he reached down and used his hand to push and hold himself between her lower lips, the topside of his length rubbing between her slit. His cock was getting coated with even more of her slick and the head was bumping into her clit each time he pushed forward, coaxing gasps and soft moans from her throat.

But when he pulled back enough and adjusted his hand so he guided himself in when he pushed forward, Nora was caught off guard, her body jolting away a bit as she inhaled through her teeth, the sound hissing. He hadn’t prepped her like usual and they hadn’t had sex in a few days; plus, considering he was fairly thick, pushing in could easily become overwhelming – especially when he wasn’t easing in like usual. Rather than pushing in and pulling out in order to help lessen the burn of being stretched, he was instead just slowly pushing in without stopping; and when he was almost halfway in, her hand shot back behind her, pressing against his stomach as if to tell him to stop or slow down – but she didn’t say anything, instead just letting out a soft whine that sounded like she said _’fuck’_ beneath her breath. He gently took her hand and placed her palm on the table, his hand going atop hers, fingers lacing, while his other one went to her hip to hold her still.

“Shh, I’m almost in. You can take it,” Arthur cooed. He glanced down between them, taking note he was just over halfway in before his eyes flicked up so he could see the side of her face, noticing how her cheek was pressed against the side of the table while her skin was flushed red, and he could hear how she was already panting from the pressure and burn. The hand on her hip went to the bottom of her spine, fingers digging into her skin just before he abruptly pushed the last couple inches of his cock in.

Nora let out a pained noise and he just gently dragged his palm up and down her spine, soothing her. “Very good girl,” he praised, and he felt her body slowly begin to relax from his words. He remained still, waiting for her signal that he could start moving; and it took a bit, but with a roll of her hips, he slowly started pulling out until just the head was in – and where he would typically make slow, shallow thrusts to test the waters and make sure she was alright for him to speed up, he didn’t do that this time; instead, he slammed back in, making her cry out as the head of his cock hit her cervix.

“That’s it, pet,” he growled, repeating the same movement of pulling out nearly all the way and slamming back in, garnering that same noise from her. “I want you to fucking scream for me so everyone on this ship knows you’re _mine.”_ The hand he had once been using to hold one of hers instead went to her hip, and the one on her spine went to the back of her neck, holding her down as he started thrusting at a rough pace; his groin was smacking against her ass, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing in the metal room and only being drowned out by her moans.

“Fuck, Arthur,” she groaned, “Flip me over. Please.” Her back was trying to push up from the table though he didn’t really consider why that was; instead, he pulled out – but rather than flipping her over right away, his hand came down on her ass cheek, making her yelp out of surprise and pain. A red mark blossomed on her skin, one which he smoothed his fingers over before pulling away and swatting his hand against the other cheek, giving it a nearly-identical mark that he followed up with smoothing his fingers over like the first one. And only once he’d marked both cheeks did he flip her over, using a hand on her hip to push her onto her back. He spread her legs so he could slot himself between them again, but he didn’t even wait before lining himself up and ramming his cock back into her, making her yelp once more while her fingers curled around the edge of the table, gripping in order to hold herself steady as her legs were hoisted over his shoulders.

“Come on, Nora. Take my cock like a good girl,” he growled, his hips slamming against her as he pushed her thighs further apart so they were no longer on his shoulders; his hands then grabbed onto her waist for leverage so he could pull her into each thrust he made.

“Oh, god, I’m gonna cum,” she breathed.

“Yeah? Don’t even need me to touch your clit, do you? Just gonna cum from my cock alone. No one else could do this for you, pet. This is why you’re _mine.”_

“Oh, fuck, Arthur.” Nora bent her thighs up a bit more so the tops of them were pressing against his forearms; he could feel how they were trembling while her cunt was tightening around his dick, telling him she was threatening to tip over the edge.

“Let go, little girl. Cum for your daddy. _Scream for me.”_

Her entire body tensed beneath him and her back arched as she came while screaming just as he ordered. “Oh, god. I’m coming, daddy. Fuck, I’m coming. Oh, fu—” Her words were cut off as her jaw dropped open and her head tipped back just as his thumb went to her clit in mid-orgasm; he rubbed rough, quick circles on it, and he could feel how it made her pulse even more around him. “Arthurrrr—” she moaned loudly, but the moan soon turned into a whine as sensitivity set in, and the first time her body jerked away from his touch, she tried to close her legs around his hand – but the presence of his arms between them stopped her from being able to do so. “Arthur, stop,” she whined, “It’s too sensitive.”

The Elder didn’t let up, however, and instead kept fucking her as he was rubbing her clit; but when she reached down and grabbed onto his wrist to try to stop him, he immediately grabbed _hers_ with his other hand and pinned it to the table above her head, then grabbed her free one and pinned that above her head, too, holding both with one of his hands. His hips had stopped thrusting aside from small grinding movements that were mostly involuntary, but his fingers had returned to her clit and were rubbing those same rough, fast circles again.

“I didn’t give you permission to grab me, pet,” he growled.

“Please, baby. It’s too sensitive, I—” her body was trembling beneath him, her breathing shaky while she jerked away from his hand again, “—I can’t take it.”

“Be a good girl and take what I give you, Nora.”

“Arthur, please,” she tried again, “It—it’s starting to hurt.”

“Stop fucking whining,” he snarled as he snapped his hips against her, making her gasp. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” she yelped, but her voice was still whiny – he let it pass this time. But she didn’t say what he was looking for, however, and so he snapped his hips against her again, which was the only thing she needed to be corrected. “I—I belong to Arthur Maxson,” she cried out, and he rewarded her by leaning down and roughly kissing her on the lips.

When he pulled away, he released her wrists, standing up straight and beginning to fuck her again while he was still rubbing her clit – but the oversensitivity seemed to be getting to her because her hips were jerking constantly and after begging him to stop touching her clit once more, only to be told to stop crying, she shifted her legs to plant her feet on his shoulders. Really, he should have expected the move since she’d done it to him once before – but he was so into what he was doing that he didn’t even realize it until it was too late – but she pushed his shoulders with her feet and sent him flying backward, straight onto his ass. Nora then rolled onto her side and curled downward, managing to fall from the table and onto her knees on the floor just as he was rising to his feet. She started crawling away from him then, moving onto her hands and knees beneath the table as if she could hide from the predator that was clearly hunting her.

She couldn’t.

“Where are you going, little girl?” Arthur growled as he went after her, pulling chairs away from the table while he followed her around it. “You know you can’t hide from me.” She was trying to avoid him, her eyes following his movements – but Nora was always sloppy, even when they played games like this, and so the moment he saw her foot sticking out a little too far, he went for it. The Elder grabbed onto her ankle and yanked her out from her hiding spot, pulling her naked body into the middle of the floor while she shrieked, her skin squeaking along the metal as she was dragged. “I don’t believe we’re done here.”

“Arthur, stop!” she cried out. Her eyes were wide as he straddled her hips. She shoved at his chest, but he just grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head again with one hand while his mouth went to her throat, biting another dark bruise into her skin and making her hiss through her teeth. Her body was thrashing beneath him, but his weight was more than enough to hold her down, even as her knees connected with his back – but they never had enough force in the strikes to actually hurt.

The one time they played this before, she’d pretended to be panicked – as prey normally would be – and the predator in him showed its face; she would flee and push at him and tell him to fuck off and stop, which only excited him more because that was her goal. Though, when they played this way before, it hadn’t started because he was jealous and wanted to fuck her as a way to make her understand she was his property – and it didn’t swing back and forth between possessiveness and their game. 

“Arthur, stop,” she breathed as his teeth found another part of her throat and bit down hard, making her cry out again.

“You’re mine,” he growled after he released her skin, once again mixing his possessive feelings into the game they were playing. “You will always be mine, Nora. I will never share you with anyone else. I will never let you go.”

“Damnit, I said stop!” she yelled as he bit onto her collarbone next; his hips were slowly moving, part of the underside of his cock just barely rubbing against her belly from his unintentional grinding.

But when he let go and tried to bite down on another spot, her pleas for him to stop finally worked.

“Cram, Arthur! Fucking cram!” she screamed.

Immediately, he was off of her and was instead on his knees at her side; his hands were raised in front of him, palms facing her to keep them in her view so she could clearly see he wouldn’t try to touch her without her permission. She’d used their safe word – but she’d never used it before. He’d always been cautious of what he did with her, ensuring he’d check on her whenever he changed something up and made sure she was okay when he was being extremely rough or trying something new. But if she used it now, it must have meant he wasn’t being careful enough.

He fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t entirely sure how to tag the chapter without giving away the ending, so if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.
> 
> also, kudos to anyone who remembered the safe word.


	62. Feline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want to shower?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Are you sure? It’ll relax your muscles and I can give you a massage—“
> 
> “You’re horrible at massages.”

“Cram, Arthur! Fucking cram!”

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

The Elder was on his knees still, though rather than straddling her hips, he was on the floor beside her, a couple feet away; his eyes were wide and pupils blown as he stared at her with his hands directly in front of him, palms out just so she knew he wouldn’t try to touch her again without permission.

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

Nora had backed away from him the moment he’d gotten off her, those royal blue eyes wide while clear panic was written on her face – though it wasn’t the same type of panic she exhibited when they were playing their game. It was true and pure panic. She was scared.

She was scared of _him._

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

“Talk,” he ordered quietly, though his tone was light; he was trying to keep his voice even and calm despite how his heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to explode. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean tell you what happened!?” she yelled as she scooted far enough away to press her back to the wall, her knees pulling up to her chest while her arms wrapped around her legs. Tears formed in her eyes the moment she’d screamed the safe word and now they were spilling down her cheeks, pouring in rivulets through her freckles. “You—you scared the hell out of me. You were hurting me. I thought that was pretty fucking obvious.”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows as he slowly lowered his hands to rest his palms on his thighs. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done to scare her; were they not doing something she enjoyed? And pain was a common part of their everyday sex life considering he always bit her neck and collarbone, so what was different this time? “We have a safe word specifically for if it becomes too painful or overwhelming. That is why I had you memorize it.”

“No, there was more to it. You were bringing that jealousy shit back into our sex life again, I know you were.” Arthur’s eyes lowered to the floor as he thought about it. She was right – he had brought his jealousy back into their sex life when it had been a while since he’d done that. He didn’t _mean_ to do it, but he recognized it had happened. “And we both know it doesn’t just stop at your jealousy. You’ll bring anger into it eventually, too.”

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

Arthur felt an ache in his chest. “Nora—” he began, scooting a little closer as if he wanted to comfort her, but at this point, he really didn’t know how to make it better.

“Don’t,” she snapped. He froze, remaining on his knees as he just stared at her; her face scrunched up just as more tears began to fall, her arms pulling her legs closer against herself as she cried.

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

The past couple days had been rough for him. When Nora spoke about leaving and getting rid of their unborn child, the Elder had broken down and found himself spilling his thoughts and emotions to her, unable to properly name the feelings but doing the best he could to explain to her just how he felt; he eventually ended up on his knees with his face pressed against her stomach. His walls were cracked and broken down by her admissions, leaving him feeling raw and exhausted and drained without fully understanding why; and now, he was trying to repair those walls, his mind creating a disconnect to protect itself as he did so. Of course, he’d still wrapped his body around hers every night and responded that he loved her when she’d said it to him first, but otherwise he just really wasn’t feeling anything – he was cut off; distant.

And Nora wasn’t entirely herself, either, though she’d went in the opposite direction from him and had become overly-needy instead – not that he could really blame her considering what she’d went through – but he found himself unable to return most of the affection she tried to give him. Whether it was leaning against his side, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest, or kissing his throat without even wanting to have sex, he just couldn’t bring himself to return it. And she noticed, because of course she did – Nora craved intimacy in her life, and he’d tried so damn hard to give it to her, so she absolutely noticed when he abruptly stopped providing it at a time when she desperately needed it. And after the first day and a half of him denying her that sort of care, she began to avoid him – which, unfortunately, he was thankful for because he couldn’t handle her neediness right now. It was too much.

But when he’d overheard her and Danse joking around, the paladin saying the baby was his instead of Arthur’s, he’d just… lost it.

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “It is my responsibility to gauge your reactions and I failed you there. I promise it will never happen again.”

“It’s not just that and you know it,” she replied before sniffling, tears still wetting her face. He tried to scoot closer again, a hand slowly reaching out for her – at least until she flinched, to which he immediately dropped his hand back on his thigh. Was she afraid of him now?

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

“You need aftercare, Nora.”

“I’m fine.”

“Please. Let me help.”

“No. Just… just leave me alone, Arthur.”

_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._

They hadn’t actually finished fucking but that didn’t matter when it came to what she needed – but Arthur was unsure if he could properly take care of her this time. He was having a disconnect with himself that he knew might prevent him from giving her proper care and considering how she’d felt just two days ago, slacking on aftercare was not an option. But the Elder was emotionally drained, and he knew if he attempted to give her the intimate care she required, it might come out forced or just not enough – still, he had to try.

If she’d let him, of course.

He watched her for a long moment, debating the tactic he needed to use. If he tried using the voice she always obeyed, she might panic again since he’d just scared her during sex, so he’d have to go gentler. Take it one step at a time and, weirdly enough, treat her like a scared animal that was ready to bolt or attack at any moment.

Arthur stood and made his way over to the table, grabbing a can of water he’d left there from earlier, then returning to the same spot he was at before, back on his knees, sitting back on his haunches. He held the water out to her, waiting patiently for her to take it; she was skeptical at first, her eyes flicking between his and the can before she accepted the offer and opened it to take a few gulps.

“Good girl,” he praised, keeping his voice low and gentle in an attempt to soothe her. “Try to drink as much of it as you can but take it slow.” When she nodded, he gave her a slight smile, as lopsided as always; he’d come to accept the feature. “That’s my girl,” he cooed, and some of the tension in her shoulders visibly disappeared as she let them fall a bit, but her eyes remained on him. “Do you want to shower?”

“No,” she answered, her voice just barely audible, especially since she had the can of water still close to her mouth as she sipped its contents.

“Are you sure? It’ll relax your muscles and I can give you a massage—”

“You’re horrible at massages.”

Arthur pursed his lips, but she just gave a small, playful smile. That was a good sign, and so he leaned forward just slightly, placing the palm of his hand on the ground and sliding it toward her; Nora stared at it for a long moment, however, before reaching out and putting her hand on top of his.

“Can I come closer?” he asked, knowing her consent was necessary before he got in her space, let alone before he tried to touch her.

“Yeah.” Needless to say, her confirmation was a relief to hear. The Elder slowly moved closer, keeping his eyes on her face for any sign that she might want him to stop where he was or scoot back a little – but she gave him none, even when he was finally at her side. Their hands were still on the ground, hers on top, before he gently guided them up and placed her palm on his left pectoral directly above his racing heart. Her fingers threaded into his chest hair as she flattened her hand out and felt the _thump, thump, thump_ of his heartbeat, her body seeming to settle more from it.

“I’m sorry, love. I should have been watching better,” he said quietly.

“You shouldn’t have decided to fuck me because you got jealous.”

He sighed and nodded his head, lightly squeezing her hand that was still on his chest. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have. I’ve been having a sort of… disconnect for the past couple nights. It’s made me distant and irritable and unable to control myself, and I think that’s where it came from when I heard Danse—” he stopped, brows furrowing as he his eyes flicked back and forth between her own for a few seconds, “—when I heard Danse joking about how the baby was his. I became possessive.”

“Why didn’t you talk it out, then?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly; his eyes dropped away from her for a second before returning to her face. “I don’t entirely know how, I suppose. I still don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling other than for a few things. I know when I’m jealous and possessive and angry but that’s… that’s really it.”

They went quiet again and Arthur found himself reaching his free hand forward to run his fingers through her hair, gently petting. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t think he could do it well right now – and he didn’t think what he was doing at this very moment was really working, either. But when she spoke next, the hand that was stroking her hair dropped back to his side, his other one still holding hers against his chest.

“Am I going to drop?”

“It’s possible, yes. But I want to prevent that, if you’ll let me. Why don’t we lay down? The contact should help.” She nodded and he brought himself to stand, then helped her to her feet, gently guiding her over to the bed before letting her lay down how she wanted to. Of course, she laid on her side like she usually did, facing the wall, and so he curled around her back as one arm slid under her neck and wrapped around her chest – but rather than the other draping over her stomach, he just gently slid his palm up and down her side, touching whatever area he could reach. Nora settled back into him, her eyes closing as she relaxed and released a soft sigh.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered softly before placing gentle kisses against her shoulder as his rough palm slowly slid down the side of her thigh, reaching as far as it could before slowly sliding back up her leg and to her side. “My beautiful girl.” She made a soft noise and he trailed kisses to her neck, gently brushing his beard against the tender skin and making her shiver against him.

He was hard again – he couldn’t help it; he hadn’t gotten to cum before and the fact that his groin was pushed against her rear, his cock pressed perfectly against the curve of her ass, certainly wasn’t going to make him soft. She didn’t seem to mind, though, as he just kept letting his fingers and palm run over her body gently, stroking her skin to help her relax.

“So perfect,” he purred against her neck.

But he was caught off guard as she spoke – and maybe that was the reason she did.

“Have you ever dropped before? I don’t even know if that’s a thing.”

Arthur blinked a few times as his hand stilled while he tried to think about what was happening. He was getting a bit carried away with praising her and was just making himself horny again, sure, but she’d just pretended like it wasn’t happening. Had she checked out again and didn’t even realize it?

He just slightly cleared his throat before allowing his hand to go back to stroking her skin, remaining gentle as he did. “It is. And yes, I have,” he answered, though his voice was a bit husky since he’d worked himself up over… well, nothing, apparently. But he had to unwrap his arm from around her chest before she choked herself when she rolled over to face him, their bodies still close while his arm was around her back and his other hand now rubbing her other side.

“A lot?”

“A couple times.”

“When?”

Arthur hummed, thinking about the question – but he didn’t actually need to, because he remembered very clearly when he experienced both his first and second drop. “The first time was after you and I first had sex,” he admitted.

“Wait, why?”

His hand slid to her hip, his thumb digging into the flesh and gently kneading to massage the spot – at least until he remembered he apparently sucked at massages, so he stopped. “None of my previous subs required the amount of aftercare you do nor the level of intimacy in their aftercare as you do, and so I was caught off guard when you’d dropped the next day.”

Nora studied his face for a long moment, her eyes slightly narrowed as if she were suspicious of something. And then—“Are you calling me needy, Arthur?”

“Yes, I am calling you _very_ needy, Nora,” he replied playfully.

Nora just pursed her lips. “Okay, what about the other time?”

“The second time we had sex.”

“… Seriously? You’ve only dropped with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” she asked; confusion had washed over her face and the hand that had been rubbing her side instead lifted so the pad of his thumb was gently tracing her bottom lip.

“I don’t know, especially considering this was very early on. I’d never dropped in the past just because one of my subs did, but perhaps it was because I was drawn to you from the beginning. You did introduce yourself to me by suggesting I eat you out, after all.”

She grinned at that. “Yeah, that’s fair,” she replied before leaning in and pressing herself closer to him, her face burying in his chest and nuzzling. “So, was that what was happening the morning after we had sex? I dropped? I thought it was just because of my dream.”

“Your dream might have been part of the reason you felt the way you did, but not entirely.”

Nora hummed against his chest lightly before nuzzling him again; they fell quiet once more, however, as his hand went back to stroking her skin, this time roaming along her spine as his other arm held her tightly against him. But the feeling of her body wiggling against him made him release his hold just enough for him to pull back and look down at her, only to be met by her gaze.

“You know I’m yours, right?” she said quietly.

Arthur swallowed hard, his throat bobbing in the process. He knew she was his _now,_ but he always worried she’d find someone better – because there were always people better than Arthur Maxson, especially those with easier titles and situations.

“Arthur,” she sighed, her hand raising to cup his jaw and fingers threading into his beard – but she soon slipped it to the back of his neck, gently pulling his head down a bit so their foreheads were pressed together. “I love you and I’m yours just as much as you’re mine. I didn’t beat up a scribe for nothing.”

Her words allowed a small smile to spread across his lips as he remembered how she did, in fact, beat up Beth for the crime of sleeping with him without even knowing of Nora’s existence. But the moment the vault dweller’s lips pressed against his in a gentle kiss, he could only kiss her back, his arm tightening around her body to press them closer together. When she shifted again, however, her leg lifted just as she pushed him onto his back while she moved to straddle his hips, their mouths still connected. He’d gone soft as they began talking about sub and dom drops, but it wasn’t taking much to get him growing hard again, especially from the placement of her body – she was preventing his cock from pressing up against his stomach and instead it was just pushing against her cunt while she wiggled her hips, the head just barely pushing between her folds and making him grunt.

His hands went to her sides, slowly stroking up and down the soft skin, but she gently grabbed one of them and pulled it away, then the other, gently pushing them down against the mattress on either side of his head at the same time she dropped her lips to his throat and began kissing at his beard line like she knew he loved. Arthur tipped his head back, sighing at the feeling and not even realizing she had his arms on the bed, palms up, while her hands slowly slid up his forearms and came to rest at his wrists, fingers curling around them and pinning him down. Not that she could actually pin him, of course, because he was much stronger than her, but just the fact that she was doing it would have made him react by proving he was in control any other time – but with her mouth at his throat, he couldn’t focus on anything else. 

And when she bit him – oh, when she bit him, he felt his body almost melt into the bed. Nora always asked before biting his neck because he never wanted marks that were visible, needing to keep up with professionalism since he presented himself as the Elder in front of countless soldiers who followed his orders – but there were already a few visible marks, and so she likely figured what was one more. And he couldn’t disagree – what was one more? Arthur found himself uncaring for professionalism when she bit down on his throat as a moan rumbled from his chest, his eyes rolling up as the lids fluttered closed, his entire body going limp beneath her.

She sucked the spot between her teeth, ensuring it’d bruise nice and dark before she released it, dragging her tongue along the mark before she found another place she liked and made another bite there. His hips were flexing involuntarily and he felt the head of his cock pushing against her cunt, threatening to penetrate her – and if he were in his right mind and could even fucking think straight, he would have pushed forward just a little bit more to do so; but all he could even focus on was her teeth on his throat and the low moan she made against him.

When the vaultie released his skin, he shivered beneath her, feeling her tongue drag against the new spot she’d marked. He felt like he could be related to a feline being grabbed onto by the scruff on their neck, forcing them to go limp as they remembered how their parent would carry them around when they were a kitten; but Arthur’s point of going limp was when Nora’s teeth dug into his throat.

Her tongue met his skin once again before her lips closed around it, trailing wet kisses up to his ear. “Arthur,” she whispered, her teeth nipping the lobe before she continued, “Are you going to cum just from me biting your neck?” He made a low moan, unable to control himself as his head tipped back a little more, baring himself to her – a silent demand for more. Or was it a plea? But she nipped his earlobe again, teasing. “Look at you submitting to me,” she continued, her hands tightening around his wrists as if to make a point how she was pinning him down, just in case he’d forgotten or hadn’t noticed yet. And he actually hadn’t noticed – so her squeezing his wrists was a stark wakeup call and he felt himself tense beneath her; but before he could even react, her hips pushed back against his cock, sliding him into her cunt only halfway.

Nora gasped at the intrusion and Arthur could only let out a low moan.

“Fuck,” he growled as his legs spread, knees bent, and heels dug into the mattress, preparing himself to buck up into her. But she took point again and sunk the rest of the way down, releasing another gasp from her lips that was accompanied by another moan from his. 

Nora’s mouth was at his throat again, tongue dragging along the edge of his beard as she slowly started moving her hips back and forth, riding him. His head tipped back again, giving her more access to such a vulnerable place, and he could feel her _grin._

But he knew she didn’t really have control here despite how she thought she did – he could easily break free from her hold because he was much stronger, and even if he couldn’t have, he was able to fuck her from this position, anyway. Still, despite how having his wrists held down wasn’t something he enjoyed, he knew he could easily get her to do what he wanted by making her react; like when he bent his knees and dug his heels into the bed to buck into her, she sank the rest of the way down. If he were to seem like he’d take what control she felt she had, she’d start biting his throat again because that was always what made him melt.

Arthur had control of the situation – she’d have to do a hell of a lot more to take it from him.

But even still, he was fighting with himself to not turn the tables on her. He’d lacked control over his emotions the past couple days and had scared and hurt her not even an hour ago, but now she was on top of him, riding his dick, thinking she had taken his control and gained the upper hand. Hell, he was struggling to let her even merely _think_ that way – but he was trying, he really was; and every time she bit his throat, it helped him relax, which made it easier. Even if every inch of his neck was just a giant fucking bruise by the time she was done, he’d be fine with that, so long as he managed to keep himself under control long enough to let her finish doing what she wanted.

But her taunting wasn’t helping.

It really wasn’t.

“Imagine that – the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel getting pinned down, gasping and moaning, almost _begging_ to be bitten on the throat by a lowly _knight.”_

His hands clenched into fists, but she immediately clamped her teeth down on his neck again, this time just below his ear, coaxing another moan from him as his body once again melted beneath her. Some spots were better to bite than others and she certainly knew which ones were the best – right beneath his ears and where he shaved his beard, as well as at the base of the column of his throat. The rest of his neck was fine, sure; it felt great. But the other spots made him fucking _weak._

When she let go, her hips began grinding faster and his own started thrusting up against her in time with her movements. “You like that, daddy?” she asked, and Arthur let out a quick, heavy exhale, his body shivering beneath her. Nora wasn’t usually the one doing the talking when they fucked – she mostly just responded to his call, letting him take the lead; but he hadn’t barely said more than a couple words yet and she was doing just fine. “You like it when I bite your throat while I’m riding your fat cock?”

Another low moan rumbled from his chest as he dug his heels into the bed a bit more, his hips pushing up and bucking against her each time she slid backward while grinding against him; he wanted more and he was so ready to just take it rather than wait for her to give. But a bite to his collarbone reminded him to relax and he let out a low growl; but she peppered bites leading up to his throat again, finding a spot she hadn’t marked and then biting down harder than she had previously, making him moan fairly loudly and release a few expletives in the process.

He was bucking up into her more but now she was encouraging it, her hips moving up and down, meeting his when he thrusted upward so he fucked into her harder, coaxing moans from her as she was kissing on the bruising skin on his throat.

“I’m gonna mark you so good, daddy, everyone will know you’re mine,” she purred against him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, the sheer possessiveness of her words and tone pushing him toward the edge. She must have noticed the difference in his reaction, though because he felt her grin against his throat again.

“You like that idea?”

“Yeah,” he growled in response.

“Good. Because there’s not gonna be an inch of unmarked skin on your throat by the time I‘m done. Everyone who looks at you will know how well I take care of you. How good I fuck you. How _hard.”_ He was getting close, and with his sped-up thrusting and her pushing down harder against him, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Anyone who comes on this ship will know you belong to Nora fucking Parker. Isn’t that right, daddy?” Her lips were at his neck, kissing at his beard line as his head was tipped back. “You’re mine, aren’t you? _Mine.”_

It was almost ironic how she’d turned the tables on him – pinning him down and fucking him, using possessiveness to get him off when he’d done the same to her not long ago. But he knew Nora was unpredictable; she didn’t plan anything but instead worked in the heat of the moment, and so everything that tumbled out of her lips right now was likely formulating in her head as it happened. She never had a game plan because she played the game on a whim, just as she did everything else.

Another hard bite onto his throat made him groan and he felt himself climbing higher and higher, ready to throw himself over the edge as he kept fucking up into her as she met his thrusts, his groin colliding roughly with her ass each time. Nora peppered bites up to his ear before speaking to him in a low, possessive tone, her cunt tightening around him at the same time. “How about after you carve your name across my chest, I carve mine across yours?”

He was done for.

Arthur’s head tipped back as he came, Nora’s teeth clamping down on another spot on his throat – just along his beard line in a spot that was _already bruised,_ which made the pain worse but so fucking good – and that made his orgasm even more intense. His eyes rolled up and the lids closed, his body nearly trembling beneath her as his hips stilled though her hips flattened against his to ensure he was buried in her, though she was grinding on him to help him ride it out.

By the time she’d stopped moving and had let go of his throat, he was panting, his eyes having slowly opened to half-lids as he stared lazily at the ceiling. It’d been a while since he’d had such an intense orgasm and _fuck,_ he wasn’t sure how she’d managed to make it happen. His entire body was tingling, and he suddenly felt exhausted, but as the hands on his wrists slowly slid up into his palms, their fingers lacing together, she finally leaned up so she was in his view rather than having her face buried in his neck. They locked eyes and Nora bit her lower lip, waiting for him to speak first; but rather than speaking, Arthur gently unlaced their fingers and brought one hand to thread his fingers into her hair, the other cupping the side of her neck as he leaned up to kiss her, holding their lips together for a long moment. She sighed into it, seeming satisfied with his response – but she was mistaken for thinking that was it.

Quickly, Arthur flipped them over, his body remaining between her legs though he wasn’t inside her any longer since he’d gone soft, but he pinned her down with his weight. The hand on the side of her neck slipped to cup her throat and the hand in her hair grabbed a fistful of the locks. Nora took a sharp intake of air as he pulled back, meeting her gaze once more. Fortunately, she didn’t look scared or upset, but more so _expectant_ of what was to come.

“Don’t ever pull that shit again. Do you understand me?” he growled. She didn’t answer, and so he leaned in, their faces close as his hand gripped her throat a little tighter, though he wasn’t cutting off her air or blood flow. “You are not in control here, pet. I don’t switch roles. You didn’t have control then and you never will, so get that into your head before you try to pull that kind of shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

Before answering, Nora’s eyes were flicking back and forth between his own, seeming to search for something, but after a few seconds she just slightly nodded. “Yes, sir,” she answered quietly.

“Good girl,” he praised before leaning down and kissing her; she eagerly returned it, and his hands released her hair and throat, one instead returning to the side of her neck while the other just remained threaded into the red locks. When the kiss broke, he just gently rested his forehead against hers, basking in the afterglow of such an intense orgasm with her body beneath his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there’s interest, I can do this from Nora’s POV. Just let me knowwww.


	63. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You need to eat more because you are eating for two, not just for yourself anymore.”
> 
> “Oh, please. I’m eating for myself and something that’s the size of a peanut right now.” It was then she realized he had no idea what a peanut was — _no one_ knew what a peanut was — because the fucking things were extinct.
> 
> Damn, that was pretty fucking depressing.

“Fuck,” she breathed. Her eyes closed as her head tipped back, three fingers dipping into her pussy and slowly moving in and out, curling to try to reach that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside. Two fingers on her other hand were rubbing circles on her clit, attempting to increase the sensation – though it did nothing when Arthur had essentially ruined everything for her to the point where she couldn’t even masturbate easily anymore because it just wasn’t enough. Despite that fact, though, she kept trying, her hips slightly flexing against her hands as her breathing increased, body slowly climbing the peak and growing closer to a climax she wasn’t sure she would even reach.

Nora was so desperate to cum, partially from frustration and partially because she hadn’t gotten to for the past two days. After pinning Arthur down and trying to take control, only for him to tell her to never do it again, he’d decided to administer consequences by refusing to give her an orgasm, claiming if she wanted release that she could _’take control and give herself one.’_ He still fucked her, of course, because he’d never deny _himself_ that release; but he never let her cum when he did.

And, fuck, she wanted to cum so bad – she _needed_ to cum.

But her fingers just weren’t enough right now, considering even if she _did_ manage to cum like this, her orgasm would have been so small and insignificant that it would have left her aching.

She almost regretted trying to take over. Almost.

The door opened and Maxson walked in with a tray of food in his hands, bringing her lunch so they could eat together just like he did every day. But when he shut the door behind him, only to let his eyes land on her naked form on the bed, those sky blues trailing down her body and taking in the sight of her curves and breasts and how she had three fingers stuffed deep in her pussy while two others were rubbing circles on her clit, there was a moment of interest on his face that she thought she might get what she wanted – what she _needed._ Her skin was flushed as she looked over to him, and when they finally made eye contact, that interest was gone; instead, the corners of his mouth twitched before he turned and made his way to the table, setting the tray down near their usual seats.

Arthur pulled his coat off and draped it over the back of his chair, then sat down and took his gloves off before rolling up his sleeves. He made a point to not look at her despite how she was clearly watching him, hunger in her eyes though it wasn’t for food – and it was driving her _insane._

“Baby,” she whined, her voice quiet. He only grunted in acknowledgement that she’d called to him but still didn’t look at her. “Please, baby.” Nora wasn’t above begging; sure, she avoided it sometimes, but right now? She’d get on her knees and beg for the next hour if it meant he’d just make her cum once.

“Two more days, pet,” he said flatly before he stood and went to his desk, grabbing a clipboard and carrying it back to the table so he could read over a report while he ate. 

“I can’t take two more days.”

“Another two days will give you more than enough time to think about why you shouldn’t try to take control, won’t it?” the Elder picked up his fork and stabbed at some of the macaroni and cheese that was made for lunch by the mess hall officer before taking a bite, still not looking over at her but instead keeping his eyes on the report he was holding.

Okay, so the problem wasn’t really that she hadn’t gotten an orgasm in the past two days – hell, she’d went over two centuries without one – but it was that he was _refusing_ to give her one even while he was using her body to get himself off in the process. Nora knew what she did was wrong, and she’d tried to make it up to him, but he still made her face consequences in the end. And these consequences fucking _sucked._

The vaultie whined again and rolled over, throwing her feet off the bed and pushing herself to stand; but it was then his eyes finally flicked over to her and she froze, her jaw tensing before she lowered herself onto her hands and knees. So maybe him not giving her an orgasm wasn’t the _only_ consequence she was facing – maybe she was also told she also wasn’t allowed to wear clothes while in the room and had to crawl on all fours when she approached him, too. At least it was only for another two days.

She crawled to him just as he expected her to, though his eyes remained on her despite how he set his fork and report down and picked up a can of water, popping it open and taking a sip, but not putting it back down. Once she was in front of him, she nudged herself between his thighs – which he spread more for her to fit – and placed her cheek against the upper part of his right one while looking up at him.

“Please, Arthur,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum.”

“I’m not stopping you from coming, Nora. You’re more than welcome to touch yourself.”

She huffed in frustration before burying her face against his leg for a moment, then sliding her hand up on his other thigh and returning her gaze to his. “Please make me cum.”

“In two days, I will,” he said, taking another sip from the can of water. “Now, are you going to eat or not?” Nora grumbled and turned her head, biting at the cloth of his jumpsuit on his thigh before she went to push herself to stand – but he spoke before she could. “No, no. You’ll be eating on the floor today.”

“What?” she snapped.

“You heard me, pet.”

They stared at one another for a long moment before Nora narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m eating on the fucking floor, Arthur Maxson.” She kept her gaze on him as he was quiet for a few seconds before a slow grin upturned one side of his mouth and he just took another sip of his water, not even saying anything else. Nora rolled her eyes and stood, taking a seat in the chair she always did – diagonally to his left – and picked up her fork so she could start eating.

Despite his suggestions, like eating on the floor, Arthur never actually made her do things like that if she wasn’t comfortable with it. When he told her that she’d face consequences for trying to take control, she expected that would be the case, and then he gave her options to choose from. Of course, they sort of negotiated, but he always held the upper hand and in the end she’d settled on the three consequences: for four days, he wouldn’t make her cum but she could do it herself, she wasn’t allowed to wear clothes in the room, and she’d have to crawl to him every time she approached him in private. Really, they weren’t bad at all and she knew they could have easily ended up being much worse; but the fact he was taking control from her also meant he was taking more weight off her shoulders, and she found herself feeling less anxious when he did.

They ate mostly in silence as he’d went back to reading his report, having received a bit more work than usual today, it seemed. He’d brought her more food than she was used to eating this time and she knew exactly why that was – she hadn’t been eating much lately and she’d lost quite a bit of weight since she’d first entered the postwar Commonwealth; so when she pushed her bowl away after not really eating much at all, Arthur was eyeing her.

“Eat more,” he ordered, but she just shook her head.

“I don’t feel very hungry right now.”

The Elder stood and Nora found herself watching him cautiously while he prowled over to her and behind her, leaning down so his beard was tickling her shoulder and the side of her face while his hands went to her bare sides, slowly sliding inward and to her stomach. “You need to eat more because you are eating for two, not just for yourself anymore.”

“Oh, please. I’m eating for myself and something that’s the size of a peanut right now.” It was then she realized he had no idea what a peanut was – _no one_ knew what a peanut was – because the fucking things were extinct.

Damn, that was pretty fucking depressing.

His hands rested flat on her stomach as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’ve lost weight, Nora. You can’t lose weight like this when you’re pregnant. You need to eat.”

“I was too fat anyway, so—” but she didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence before Arthur pulled away from her and she felt her chair tipping backward. Her arms and legs flailed in the air even as she saw Arthur’s leg move over her so he was standing over the chair, holding the back of it up a foot or so from the ground as he was bent over her. The vaultie reached out and grabbed onto his arms out of instinct to try to save herself from the harmful fall of, uh, half a foot.

“What did I tell you the last time you spoke about yourself like that?” he growled.

She stared up at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as she thought about the question. He wasn’t happy when she’d talked down about herself last time nor the time before that, and whenever he caught her, he’d remind her why she shouldn’t do it. But the most recent one particularly stood out and for good reason. Nora shook her head just slightly, not wanting to say it – but he let the chair jerk down a little, making her yelp and flail when she thought she was falling.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

She took a deep breath, holding it for a second and feeling her heart pound in her chest. “That you’d make me work with Teagan for a week.” It was obvious Arthur wasn’t aware of Teagan’s tendency to ogle her and say inappropriate things, otherwise he wouldn’t threaten to send her there – he was likely just doing it because he knew she hated Teagan and because the quartermaster was just a huge fucking asshole to everyone.

“Correct. And do you want to work with Teagan for a week, Nora?”

“No, sir,” she whispered.

“I didn’t think so. I’ll let it slide this time but next time you won’t be so lucky. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised before he pulled her chair up a bit higher so he could press his lips to hers gently, his hands still holding onto the back of the seat firmly while he was bent over her.

When the kiss broke, however, Nora allowed one of her hands to let go of his arm and instead cupped his jaw, gently sliding her thumb down the large scar on his face. “Arthur?” she whispered, making sure he was giving her his full attention, “… Will you make me cum? Please?”

“Two more days,” he replied simply before dropping the chair, making her scream in horror as if she’d been dropped from a ten-story building and not from one foot in the air.

══════════════════

“Liberty _what!?”_

“Liberty Prime.”

“Oh, my god.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.”

“What, Parker?”

“One of Nate’s friends was a whistleblower about this thing like five years before the bombs. It was… actually the reason we started getting more involved politically. Jesus, Arthur, why are you rebuilding this!?”

Ingram and Maxson glanced at one another while Nora was looking between the pieces of Liberty Prime that were scattered in the garage-like area in the airport, her jaw ajar and eyebrows furrowed as she was trying to take everything in. Her late husband’s friend had blown the whistle on the giant robot because it would have had no regard for human life, even those of its allies, while it tried to work alongside the United States soldiers to liberate Anchorage, Alaska back in 2072. Both she and Nate had been fairly political since Nate was a soldier and she was a lawyer, but they’d delved much further into politics after his friend had blown the whistle on the big ass robot, revealing how dangerous it would be and that the government didn’t seem to care about the risks they’d be taking by using it in combat.

“We used it ten years ago in the Capital Wasteland to defeat the Enclave, so this isn’t the first time we’ve rebuilt. Our fight was a success with Liberty Prime’s assistance,” Arthur explained, his voice calm – but Nora didn’t understand how.

“I don’t know what the Enclave is, and I don’t really care. You can’t use this thing. It’ll kill innocent people.”

“We will use it, Parker, and Dr. Li will hopefully help us because she worked on it the last time and knows how to operate the power systems. This is our secret weapon against the Institute.”

“You’re going to kill so many innocent people, Arthur. Don’t you even care?” she growled, her voice raising. There were people around them, and Ingram was standing right there, as well, though her eyes were on the ground so she wasn’t getting in the middle of their very public fight. Nora knew the second she started raising her voice at him with his subordinates around – especially when she, herself, was a subordinate – she’d made a mistake.

“I suggest you lower your voice.”

But she didn’t give a fuck.

“Why? Because you don’t want to hear about how this giant fucking robot will just destroy everything in its path when that’s _exactly_ what it was created to do?” she snarled.

“Hold your tongue, Parker,” Arthur snapped, and she normally would have listened because he was using _that_ voice, but she was so damn wound up over this destructive fucking robot that she couldn’t stop herself.

“Do you know how many people are going to die if you—”

“Hallway. Now.” His voice was firm, still in the one she always obeyed, and she might have ignored it if he wasn’t approaching her and pointing directly to the hallway by the terminal Ingram had used to open the garage door. Nora glanced over to it, then back at him, but he was still coming toward her and she realized he would just shove her with his broad chest if she didn’t start moving. With a huff, she turned on her heel and started for the hallway with Maxson close on her heels.

Once they were out there, she was near some giant crate before she turned to face him, but he was much closer than she anticipated – and he still wasn’t stopping. The vaultie began backing up only for her back to hit the crate and stop her from going any further as he closed in. His arms outstretched and hands pressed against the crate on either side of her head but higher up, caging her in as he leaned down, the leather of his battle coat creaking while his mouth was close to her ear as he whispered. His voice was still threatening, and it sent chills down her spine.

“Either you hold your tongue until we’re alone when you can voice your concerns, or you will not be going with Danse on the mission Ingram has requested you for and instead you will sit your ass in the fucking corner of our quarters for the rest of the night. Do I make myself clear?”

Nora knew her face was red because her skin felt entirely too fucking hot; but it was because of anger and embarrassment more than his body heat from being so close and the fact it was fairly warm outside. With him being leaned down, she could see the scribes in the garage, most having moved into positions where they could peer out into the hallway, staring at her and Arthur with wide eyes, seemingly unsure of what was happening. Ingram was watching, as well, but the look on her face was different from the ones the scribes held; something she couldn’t really pinpoint.

Most of the ship knew of their relationship by now but she figured most _didn’t_ know the, uh, intimate details – so Arthur cornering her like this probably looked less like him clarifying the rules and consequences established within their relationship and more like him threatening her. Needless to say, it probably wasn’t a good look to the people he was leading. She’d come to expect this sort of behavior from him now and, for the most part, didn’t mind it anymore – other than the fact it did piss her off and embarrass her when he did it in plain view of others, though she had a feeling that might have been on purpose. But Nora was still getting the hang of being in this sort of dynamic; not just when it came to being with someone who was at the top of the food chain, but also being with someone who insisted on being at the top of the food chain and she at the bottom of it when between the sheets and during everyday life, as well.

Still, when he acted this way in front of his subordinates, it was probably a bad look, and she figured she might need to talk about it with him soon, especially considering how one of the scribes looked much more panicked than the others.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl,” he replied before pressing a kiss to her temple and pulling away. He straightened out his battle coat as their eyes locked for just a moment before he mumbled _’come’_ and turned back around to return to Ingram, Nora following close behind. Arthur’s hands went behind his back and into parade rest as he just continued the conversation like nothing had even happened.

══════════════════

Nora _definitely_ had a bunch of big ass magnets in Sanctuary – but no one needed to know that. If Arthur knew, he’d send someone to go get them and then she wouldn’t have the chance to leave the Prydwen to go on a super awesome mission of scavenging a hospital with her favorite paladin. Hell, Arthur was reluctant to even let her go on this mission, anyway, considering she was pregnant and he thought it was ‘too great a risk;’ but Ingram had managed to convince him which was why he’d brought her into that dumb garage area to talk about the stupid fucking robot.

And now, here she was, standing just outside Milton General Hospital, a few dead raiders around her that she’d successfully taken out on her own. With one foot on the back of a dead body and her eyes to the sky, she took in a deep breath to smell the thick scent of blood and grime and possibly urine of someone who’d pissed themselves before they’d died.

Ah, today would be a good day, indeed. She would find four magnets and complete the mission, proving once and for all she was usefu—

“Are you done?” Danse’s voice cut into her inner monologue, causing her to shoot a glare at him.

“Am I done with what?”

“You’ve been standing there with your hands on your hips while staring at the sky like a superhero for at least a minute. Are you done doing whatever that is so we can find these magnets and go?”

The vaultie pursed her lips. “You really have to ruin everything, don’t you?” she grumbled. Confusion washed over his face at her words while she walked right past him and into the hospital. He didn’t immediately follow, it seemed, which was fine. She could do this on her own; let him sit out there and pout—

“Heyyyy, girlie!” an accented voice chimed from across the room as someone set eyes on her; but the place it came from was completely dark. “What are you doin’ in here? You lost?” The tone was very clearly not filled with concern but more so _interest,_ and Nora was no fool – she wouldn’t fall for it. Not one bit.

“Yeah, I’m _super_ lost. Am I in the hospital? Can you help me find my way around here?”

“I’m havin’ a hard time hearin’ you from all the way over there. Why don’t you come a little closer?”

“You know, that sounds like an excellent idea.”

“No, it does not, Parker!” Danse snapped from behind her, but the sound of a deep baritone thundering behind her must have tipped the stranger off that she wasn’t alone because she heard a string of curses before gunshots immediately followed and both Danse and Nora ducked behind cover.

“Why do you have to ruin my fun, Danse?” she growled.

“Fun? You call tempting raiders ‘fun’?” The paladin shifted his position, his power armor whirring as he was crouched behind an overturned table.

“Yes, actually. You just clearly don’t understand the meaning of fun.” Nora leaned out and took aim at where she saw the outline of a raider, shooting her plasma rifle at it; two globs of green goo struck its mark as a pained scream quickly followed, then nothing. Judging by the gunshots, there were probably two more enemies remaining.

She was back behind cover when Danse spoke again. “That’s not your usual plasma rifle. Where’d you get it?” he asked as he stood up and took a shot where he thought one of the raiders were, but they ducked behind cover before he could get the hit and instead the laser clashed with a barrier; he was back behind the table again right after.

“You should know better than anyone I don’t kiss and tell, Danse,” she said with a grin, the feature only getting wider when she saw how red his face burned. Nora peaked out from cover again, taking another shot – but almost at the same time, Danse stood up and took a shot as well, both shooting at two different enemies but Danse’s laser hitting one shadowy figure and turning them into ash.

One left.

They both ducked behind cover again

“Come on, girlie,” the last raider called – the same one who’d greeted her when she came into the building, “Why don’t you and your daddy play fair, huh?”

Nora gasped, offended. _”Excuse you!?”_ she snarled. Stepping out of cover, Nora unleashed glob after glob of plasma at the final shadowy figure, approaching him with each shot; and soon, he was turned into a green puddle on the floor.

Okay, that was a bit of an overreaction.

She threw her gun over her arm so it was against her back as she stared down at the glob of green goo on the ground, debating on if the remains of what used to be a man were really even worth spitting on. 

“Nora, why did you just—” Danse began, but when she turned her eyes to him and gave him a look that he knew as a warning of the answer being something he wasn’t going to like, he quickly changed his mind. “Actually, you know what, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

A wide grin crossed her lips again before she turned on her heel and started toward the hallway. They had magnets to search for.

══════════════════

“Stop taking that trash with you, it’s slowing us down. I’m not carrying any of it when you’re barely able to walk,” Danse grumbled as he watched Nora stuff something in her bag. The thing seemed to have an infinite amount of space – it made no sense.

“We’ll see—” she replied in a sing-song voice.

He pursed his lips before turning into an empty room, finding a skeleton on a hospital bed leaned up against some pillows, its jaw wide open and its hands curled around its pelvis; the other bed consisted of two teddy bears that were situated to… well, copulate. Rolling his eyes, he knocked the bears over and began searching the cabinets in the room for anything that might be especially useful, though they still had one more magnet to find. One of the cabinets had a couple of stimpacks in it, which he quickly snatched and shut the cabinet door back up before Nora caught sight of any of the other useless items in there. Because he was serious – he was _not_ about to carry any of the junk she was picking up. She was a damn pack rat.

When he turned around, he’d realized she hadn’t followed him into the room, and when he went into the hallway and looked down both his left and his right, he couldn’t see her out there, either. Nora was clumsy so he could usually hear her walking around or knocking something over, but when there was no noise, worry began to set in.

“Parker?” he called out; there was no answer. Danse pulled his laser rifle from his back, eyes scanning both ends of the hallway again before he entered one of the rooms, glancing around inside. “Parker, where are you?” he called again, this time a bit louder. This room was empty. So was the next one. And the next. But when he got further down the hall, he nearly stumbled over her bag and gun that looked like they’d just been dropped on the ground haphazardly; without care.

Oh, god.

“Parker!” he barked, but there was still no response. The paladin picked up Nora’s plasma rifle and slung it over his shoulder as he continued searching the rooms. Something must have happened – she wouldn’t have just left her things there, especially her gun. If she was hurt – or worse – he would never forgive himself, especially since it happened under _his_ watch. Forget what Arthur would do to him – he’d hate _himself._

Danse entered another room, a nervous sweat covering his face as he beginning to panic as he searched for his missing companion, but the second he turned the corner, his heart nearly stopped. She stood in front of him, but she wasn’t alone – a raider was at her back, holding a gun to her head and a hand over her mouth while she gripped the arm that was covering it. The man was decently taller than her, as most people were, and so the soldier debated on how quickly he could take this raider down without her getting hurt – but the sound of a shotgun cocking right behind him caught his attention.

“Drop the guns and step outta your armor, tin can,” another voice sneered from behind, and it was then Danse knew they were in serious trouble.

══════════════════

Nora remained still as her eyes locked with Danse’s and she saw the hesitation; he was thinking of a way out, but she wasn’t sure there even was one. After a moment, however, Danse tossed his laser rifle to the side and pulled the vault dweller’s plasma rifle off his back, then tossed it with his weapon.

“There ya go. Now, outta the armor,” the raider behind Danse ordered. The paladin shifted to the side some before his armor opened and he stepped out, though he was towering over the one who held a shotgun to his head. “Damn, you’re a big motherfucker, ain’t ya?” the raider snorted, “I think you’ll go for a hefty price.”

“Slavers,” Danse hissed; the disgust in his voice was clear.

A couple more slavers came into the room, guns cocked and aiming at Danse while the one who held her back against his chest leaned down a bit to whisper to her – and she about bit his hand. “Don’t worry, princess. We’ll take good care of you and your friend. I’m sure someone will buy him up real quick.”

The reality of the situation began to set in and she felt panic rising in her throat, making her breathing speed up. She and Danse would be slaves – fucking _slaves._ There was no doubt what she’d be forced to do, but Danse? She couldn’t imagine.

And by the looks of it, with five raiders in the room with them while neither her nor Danse had their guns, there wasn’t any way out of this fucking hellhole.

Oh, god. She’d never get to see her friends again. She’d never get to hear Preston’s stupid voice asking for help with another fucking settlement, or MacCready flirt with her, or Hancock call her ‘kitten,’ or Codsworth call her ‘mum.’ She’d never get trapped aboard that stupid fucking blimp again.

She’d never see Arthur again. Fuck, he said he’d make her cum in two days, and now he’d never get to fulfill that promise – instead, she was destined to be some fuckwad’s slave.

And her baby. What about her baby? When they found out she’s pregnant, what would they do? Would they hurt her or make her deliver and then take it away? She couldn’t lose another child. She couldn’t survive that. Not again.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and the taunting whisper that went in her ear only made it worse. “Aw, don’t cry, girlie. I promise we’ll—”

“Bah! Puny human raiders!”

Maybe it was a saving grace or maybe it wasn’t but the sound of screams and gunfire followed the familiar guffaw and taunt that seemed to echo and ring in everyone’s ears; it made each slaver in the room stiffen and they almost seemed to look panicked, but Nora was thankful for it, either way.


	64. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was it. This was how she died – as a super mutant’s dinner; and not even a _proper_ super mutant’s dinner. No, she didn’t get torn into pieces and put in a pot to boil or in a pan to fry or anything like that; there was no seasoning or salt added to her, nothing! Instead, she’d just get eaten raw. Raw! _Fucking raw!_ And whether that was an insult or a compliment, she wasn’t sure – but she was fairly certain it was an insult.

“Lash, you’re with me,” the slaver who was holding Nora hostage called to the one who was aiming a shotgun at the back of Danse’s head. “We’re gonna throw ‘em in the cage down the hall and then we’ll help take out our unwelcome guest before we take these two home with us and get a price. Big guy walks in front. The rest of youse get to work on takin’ that fuckin’ thing out.”

Everyone left the room in a line, three slavers heading to the right to join their comrades in the battle while the other two guided Nora and Danse to the left. The vaultie didn’t get a chance to look at where the fight was for only but a second, but she definitely saw a glimpse of green rampage right into one of the rooms where flashes of white from gunshots lit up the space along with the sounds echoing through the narrow hallway, making her ears ring. But the slaver dragged her along, taking them down the hall – away from the others – and past a few rooms before they went into another one, though this one had a fucking cage in it.

Nora was kept a decent distance from Danse but was put in his field of view. “Get in, soldier boy,” Lash ordered, and Danse’s eyes flicked to Nora; the look he gave her was worrisome and made her think he was about to do something stupid – like he was debating on trying to take down the two raiders by himself without any weapons while he was at point blank range of a shotgun. But Lash shoved the barrel against the paladin’s back, making him stumble, and he just shot a glare behind him before ducking and climbing into the metal cage. It was… very small, to say the least, and left him no choice but to sit down; besides, it seemed like they weren’t going anywhere at least until the mutant was taken care of.

The slaver who held Nora hostage moved to the gate of the cage, as well, and shoved her in next, making her stumble – but Danse reached his arms out and caught her before she fell, pulling her against his chest and between his legs as they were spread and his knees were bent. Nora couldn’t help but curl into him as he held her.

“You two stay put, now. We’ll be back,” one of the slavers said mockingly before they both left, shutting the door behind them. The sounds of gunshots and screams were still fairly loud but still a ways down the hall and it just made her panic more. If the slavers didn’t take them, then they’d become food for a super mutant; the mere thought of that caused her breathing to increase from panic.

Danse wrapped his arms around her, one hand going to her hair and gently stroking the red locks. “Shh, shh, shh, you’re okay,” he whispered. His attempt to comfort her may have worked in other circumstances, but the one they found themselves in now was, unfortunately, not a time it would work.

Nora was panicking as she thought of what would happen to her baby when the slavers found out she was pregnant; if they took her and Danse somewhere, would they make her deliver – and, if so, what would they do with her newborn after she gave birth? Or would they even let her get that far?

“No, no, no, nonononononono. They’re gonna take my baby away, Danse. When they find out, they’re gonna take my baby away, I know it.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” The paladin’s hands went to her face, cupping her cheeks and gently turning her head so she was looking at him, his thumbs brushing away some of the tears that fell; she’d been unable to stop crying since the moment she realized how fucked they were in the other room. “We will get out of here, I promise. I’ll get us out if it’s the last thing I do. I will keep you _both_ safe.”

“Haha! Can’t escape me!” Another guffaw, followed by a taunt, echoed from the hallway, though it was much closer this time. Gunshots were still ringing out but there were significantly less, and it was only minutes before the last gunshot was made, allowing silence to embrace the hospital as if it hadn’t just been disturbed.

Both Brotherhood soldiers held their breaths, but Nora had a sinking feeling in her gut that, even though they may have escaped the slavers, they were just thrown into the jaws of something else. She turned her head to look at Danse, eyes wide with fear, and she could have sworn she saw his throat bob from a hard swallow. No matter how strong he always tried to be, he couldn’t completely mask the fear of the unknown that was looming over them and on the other side of the door. Still, it was almost comforting to know she wasn’t the only one who was scared.

“I can smell you out there, little sneak,” the voice growled, and she knew the mutant was close – _it was so fucking close._ The vaultie could feel her stomach swirling, threatening to throw up the little bit of macaroni and cheese she’d eaten earlier for lunch. But those muffled footsteps kept getting closer and closer and closer. “Here human, human, human. I got a treat for youuuuu!” Her breath hitched in her throat – it must have been right outside the do—

The door was kicked open and Nora gasped, pressing herself closer to Danse for protection; his arms tightened around her as if that would actually comfort her – as if it would actually _protect her_ from the mutant that was walking in the door. Neither of them would have had such scared reactions if they’d had their weapons, but being stuck in a cage at a mutant’s mercy? All Nora could feel was fear; she wondered if that’s all Danse could feel, too.

“Oooh! Lookie, lookie! Lunch!” The green creature that was once a human being entered the room and Nora kept trying to scoot away from the door of the cage, pushing back further into Danse and trying to go _anywhere_ that wasn’t near the grips of the fucking mutant that was now trying to rip off the cage door to reach them so it could feed. And the moment it started pulling at the gate, Danse tried to maneuver her behind him, but the cage was extremely small and there wasn’t much room to move – plus, the gate came off fairly quickly.

The mutant reached in, grabbing at whatever it could though it missed a few times before finally catching Nora’s ankle, making her shriek in terror as it pulled her toward the open door of the cage. Danse lunged forward then, having pulled a knife from his boot and stabbing it to the hilt into the mutant’s hand. “Let go of her, beast!” he screamed before getting shoved further back into the cage; but rather than releasing the ankle it had a grip on, it just tugged her out faster, grabbing the loose door of the cage and slamming it against the opening so the pieces were smashed back together and trapping the paladin back inside.

“Stupid humans,” the mutant growled, yanking the knife from its hand and tossing the blade across the room, seeming unfazed by the injury as it dragged Nora away from the cage and to the middle of the floor.

This was it. This was how she died – as a super mutant’s dinner; and not even a _proper_ super mutant’s dinner. No, she didn’t get torn into pieces and put in a pot to boil or in a pan to fry or anything like that; there was no seasoning or salt added to her, nothing! Instead, she’d just get eaten raw. Raw! _Fucking raw!_ And whether that was an insult or a compliment, she wasn’t sure – but she was fairly certain it was an insult.

But Nora was hyperventilating, the lack of oxygen making her see white and black spots as her chest heaved. Danse was yelling at the mutant, taunting it, trying to get its attention away from her and onto him – but nothing seemed to be working. It didn’t matter, anyway, because they’d both become dinner in the end. But when the mutant leaned over her, squinting its tiny eyes as it studied her face while she huffed for air, a small _’hmm’_ was released from its throat as if it was considering her.

And that’s when it barked out a laugh.

In her face.

Without eating her.

“Human puny now! Where meat go!?”

The vaultie’s eyes were wide as she stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowed while confusion washed over her face; she had no fucking idea what was happening or what to do. Spots were still littering her vision and so she was having trouble really seeing anything, but the fact she wasn’t being torn limb from limb was… well, promising. Sort of?

“Strong not see human in long time! Human need meat?” the mutant yelled with another bark of laughter.

The words took a moment to register, but once they sunk in, a sudden wave of relief crashed over her like a warm and fuzzy blanket and she felt her entire body relax. The adrenaline that had been pumping through her began to slowly die down, but it would take much longer than a couple seconds to completely stop; so, for now, she could still hear her heart _thump, thump, thumping_ in her chest.

“Strong,” she croaked, her voice wheezing and throat dry as she was still trying to catch her breath and calm herself down. “Strong, what—what the fuck?”

“Hah! Human save Strong from cage, now Strong save human from cage, no eat!” he barked with another laugh. The bastard was just getting a kick out of the fact he almost ate her, wasn’t he?

“Strong, what are you… what are you even doing here?” 

“Strong look for milk of human kindness on own,” he said with a single-shoulder shrug that she didn’t see. “And Strong bored. Human lose meat? Need more?” There was a slight jab against her side from a big green finger and she realized he was commenting on the fact she’d lost so much weight since he’d last seen her.

Pushing herself to sit up, she blinked a few times, still breathing deeper than normal as she looked up to the mutant who was holding out what looked like radroach meat in his hand. He was decked out in the gear she’d found for him so long ago along with a super sledge she’d modified – okay, that she’d had _Sturges_ modify. Whatever.

But she definitely crinkled her nose at the sight and smell of the meat—oh, god. She was going to throw up.

══════════════════

They’d reported to Ingram when they returned to the Prydwen, handing over the big ass magnets while Danse said he’d write up a full report with the details of their mission and have it ready to view by the next evening since they’d gotten back fairly late. It wasn’t time for lights out yet but it was close, so she was able to avoid Arthur and go to the room by herself, immediately jumping into the shower to wash the filth of the slaver from her skin even though the one had only barely touched her, and it was just to restrain her, nothing more. Still, she felt dirty from it, knowing what those people had done to others and what their intentions were for her and Danse – it was fucking wrong.

But she didn’t even get halfway through her shower before the bathroom door opened and familiar footsteps entered. She wrapped her arms around her stomach while she listened to him undress, his heavy battle coat likely already having been removed in the room and hung on the back of his chair and his boots set beside the nightstand like usual. All that was left for her to listen to was him unzipping his flight suit, dropping it onto the floor with his underwear, and then tugging his undershirt off – the familiar _clinking_ of holotags hitting each other and his chest following after.

He was in the shower almost immediately then, strong arms wrapping around her from behind as he pressed his front against her back and held her tightly. “How did the mission go?” Arthur asked before placing soft kisses to her shoulder.

But Nora didn’t answer at first – how could she? She could tell him it went fine and that nothing exciting happened, but she knew Danse would write a very detailed explanation in the report Ingram and Arthur would read tomorrow, only to prove her a liar and make the Elder angry. Or she could tell him some of the truth – that they’d run into trouble, but a super mutant had shown up and taken out the rest of the raiders. Telling him all of the truth, however, would be the worst option because if Arthur knew she and Danse had almost become slaves, then there was a very likely chance she wouldn’t be allowed in the field anymore, especially when pregnant. And that wasn’t even considering what he’d do to Danse for ‘not protecting her well enough’ or some shit. She couldn’t deal with it tonight.

Anxiety started creeping through her veins as she stared ahead at the tile, eyebrows crinkled while her brain ran through all the possible ways Arthur might react to each piece of information that she could provide him. And then there was the worry of how she could have easily lost her baby – their baby – and whether it was because she could have been hurt or because they would have taken it away after it was born. The unease continued, traveling through each vein until it flooded straight into her center mass and Nora felt herself beginning to breathe heavily again.

Another panic attack.

“Nora?” Arthur’s voice was quiet in her ear as he gently and slowly turned her around so she was facing him, but the second she looked up and met his eyes, she found herself wanting to get lost in that blue sky again, just like she always did. Instead, her face scrunched up and tears began to fall, mixing with the water that already wetted her cheeks from the showerhead. “Hey, shh, shh. What’s wrong, love? What happened? Did you get hurt?”

The vaultie could only shake her head before she leaned forward and buried her face into his wet chest, not even caring that his chest hair was clinging to her in the process; she wrapped her arms around his middle to press herself as close to him as possible while he held her tightly against to him, as well. Arthur placed a gentle kiss atop her head and then rested his cheek there, one hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly, trying to calm her – it was working. She could feel her breathing slow down.

“Tell me what happened,” he said quietly. When she shook her head, he sighed. “Nora, I need to know what happened. I need to know what has you so upset.”

“Please, Arthur. Danse is going to write it in the report. I just… I just don’t want to talk about it, okay? Please.”

The Elder went quiet for a few moments, likely thinking over her request despite his incessant need to have control over situations – but he mostly conceded. Mostly. “At least answer me if you or the baby were injured.”

“No, we weren’t.” Which was true – they weren’t injured; not physically, at least.

He sighed against her hair again, this time maybe more from relief than anything else, before placing another kiss to the top of her head. “Very well. Do you want me to help you finish washing?”

Rather than answering, however, Nora pulled away just enough to look up at him, meeting his gaze and studying his face before she leaned up to softly press her lips against his, pulling him into a kiss. He returned it, of course, but let her lead, seeming to understand she needed to go at her own pace. Her arms unwrapped from around his waist and instead one hand went to his left pectoral, palm flat and resting directly above his heart while the other cupped the side of his neck, her thumb gently brushing the edge of his beard by his ear.

By the time the kiss broke, they were both lightly panting. “Arthur,” she whispered, and his eyes met hers as they flicked back and forth between them. She felt tears on the brim of her own but whether he could see them, she was unsure; what Nora was sure of, however, was that the incessant feeling of anxiety would not go away and she wanted him to help fix it. “I need you. Please.” The vaultie’s voice cracked during her plea but he seemed to pay it no mind as he silently reached down and cupped her rear with his hands, hoisting her up so she could wrap her legs around his hips and her arms over his shoulders. The Elder pressed her back against the shower wall, one hand shifting down to hold the back of her thigh while the other reached between their bodies to line himself up before he slowly started pushing in.

There was no prepping – she didn’t want it. All she wanted right now was to feel as close to him as possible and as soon as possible, stretch and burn be damned. But even still, he eased in, rolling his hips back and forth over and over, coaxing shaky breaths and hissed air sucked between her teeth until their hips were finally flush together and he stilled, giving her time to adjust. 

The side of her face was pressed against his, but she felt comforting kisses being placed against her temple and cheek and ear, slowly melting the anxiety that was still flowing through her veins. Nora allowed her eyes to close, one of her arms resting on his shoulder as she bent it behind his head, her fingers threading into the wet, brown locks that were flopped onto one side of his head rather than brushed back. Her other arm draped across his upper back, holding him close, using him to keep her here both physically and mentally – she wanted to stay with him. She needed to. She was scared.

She was so fucking scared.

Arthur made a few test thrusts, rolling his hips to ensure she was alright with the movements before he set a moderate pace, not fucking her gently but also not fucking her roughly like he usually did. Still, he was hitting that bundle of nerves inside her just right, the head of his cock brushing against it with each thrust and helping build that familiar coil in her belly.

Soft moans were made near his ear, the sound so quiet compared to what she normally sounded like. It wasn’t often she tried to keep herself quiet during sex – she was usually very vocal and it was always unintentional – but this time, she tried to keep it down; this time, Nora opted for making small, breathy noises in his ear that were reserved for him and only him.

“Arthur,” she whispered, her fingers on one hand digging into the back of his shoulder while the other hand was clutching some of his hair. “Promise me you’ll protect me and the baby.”

His head moved and his lips found her jaw where quick, loving kisses were placed against her skin until his forehead was pressed to the side of hers. “I promise.”

“Say it.”

“I promise I will always protect you and the baby.” His tone was so protective and loving that she couldn’t dare do anything but believe it, and the sound was helping wash away the anxiety she still felt crawling beneath her skin. His pace picked up just slightly, her body jerking up a little each time their hips connected; she could feel kisses being placed to her jaw again, now moving down to her neck – they were comforting. “You will always be safe with me, Nora. I would never let anyone, nor anything, harm you or our child.” 

The vault dweller turned her face more into his, ghosting her lips against his cheekbone as her breathing became shaky with her approaching climax. She knew he wouldn’t let her cum – she still had two more days before he’d help get her off, but the sensation of climbing the ladder toward her release was still a good feeling and being so close to Arthur was what she needed right now. Even if she ended up feeling frustrated from not climbing down the other side but instead being forced to backtrack, this would still be worth it.

Nora couldn’t focus on anything other than the coil in her stomach, feeling it grow bigger and bigger as Arthur was placing kisses to her throat; she was so close to tipping over the edge. And just when she expected him to pull out and wait for her to come back down, his hips started moving faster and his thumb was on her clit, rubbing quick, rough circles on it; Nora’s eyes grew wide before tightly shutting and her jaw dropped in a silent scream, her hips immediately rocking against his hand as she came – and she came _hard._

And he wasn’t far behind, a low rumble sounding from his chest as he stilled and came inside her. They stood in the afterglow for a few long moments, Arthur having turned to rest his forehead against the side of her face again as they were panting, trying to regain themselves. Soft kisses were placed along her jaw, trailing to her lips where he pulled her into a gentle, slow kiss that he held for as long as she’d allow, only for them both to pull away again to, once more, pant breathlessly.

“I will always take care of you, Nora. I will always protect you; and I will burn the Commonwealth to the ground if that’s what it takes to keep you safe,” he whispered.


	65. Dynamic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, that was another thing she’d recently learned: proper titles.
> 
> Arthur was not her dom, he was her Dom; he was not her sir, he was her Sir – which she’d figured out were proper capitals, not lowercase. On the other hand, he was _not_ her Daddy, he just liked being _called_ ‘daddy’ when they fucked. That one was a bit more straightforward, she supposed.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Arthur asked, bringing Nora back to the here and now instead of deep in her own mind. They were sat in their quarters, the Elder in his usual chair, coat draped over the back, eyes scanning a report attached to a clipboard in one hand. His other hand, however, was down in his lap, fingers gently stroking her hair as she was resting her cheek against the inside of his clothed thigh while she sat on the floor between his legs, her body facing him. They’d been in this position for about the past ten minutes as Arthur went through page after page of the reports that he had stacked on the table in front of him – there were even more on his desk and there had been _a lot_ lately.

But even as he was busy, he’d still noticed she wasn’t in her own head and something was wrong.

“I dunno,” she mumbled.

“Wanna try that again?”

The vaultie buried her face against his thigh, teeth gently biting at the cloth of his jumpsuit; she might have taken his words as hostile or aggressive if she hadn’t learned long ago how damn prickly he was at times, especially when he was stressed – and considering the entirety of the Prydwen’s crew had been so busy lately because of the project with Liberty Prime and how close they were to the final battle with the Institute, this was certainly one of those times. She might have said something snappy or snarky to him in return in the past, but she bit her tongue now. She knew better.

“Have I changed since you met me?” she asked without looking at him.

“That depends on what sort of changes you’re asking about.”

Nora began fiddling with one of the pockets on the leg of his jumpsuit to keep her hand busy while her other arm was wrapped around his leg, almost clinging to it. She wondered if he realized how she’d even changed – or how she’d changed specifically for _him._ He’d dramatically changed himself for her and she was entirely grateful for it; it made her love him even more than she thought she could. But she wasn’t sure if the way she’d changed for him was for the better or not. She didn’t think it was for the worse… but there was still uncertainty – and that just made her feel bad.

When Arthur became a part of her life, she was personally introduced to the rougher side of sex. She’d been aware of the type of sex he enjoyed back before the war, of course – the man takes control and ties up the woman, maybe smacks her around, hits her ass with a paddle or something, and then from there on out, sex is just rough and brutal and dominating; and she knew roles could reverse where sometimes women were the ones in control and all that. Nora had never tried it herself and she never thought she’d even be _willing_ to try it; her and Nate were… fairly vanilla. They tried different positions, and had even role played to some extent, but it was nothing involving pain other than some light spanking, but definitely not bondage or anything.

Yet, Arthur brought her into that sort of scene. It was slow at first though it still took her for a loop, especially in the beginning where she went through sub drops because he hadn’t done proper aftercare since his communication skills fucking sucked, and so he was just feeling around in the dark for what might work while she had no fucking clue what the hell was happening. And it took her a little while, but she got the hang of submitting during sex – and he got the hang of providing her adequate aftercare and learning her limits. And even still, she was gradually being introduced to new things, like having her hands tied and her mouth gagged, which she was fairly excited for.

But their overall dynamic was something else. It was initially unchanging, where he’d remain dominant between the sheets but still be his asshole self everywhere else; but only recently had she realized their relationship was beginning to consist of that same dynamic where he dominated and she submitted not only during sex but also outside of their private quarters. It was more than just him cornering her because she pressed his buttons and pissed him off, and it definitely didn’t include her fighting back because he thought he could get away with being handsy when he wanted her to shut her mouth.

He’d implemented… something into their relationship; she wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it felt sort of normal – kind of _natural,_ even. Maybe not entirely at first since she was sort of concerned, but she easily took to it and now it was already part of her life.

The night she’d attempted to take control during sex and had stepped out of line, he’d allowed her to have her fun and then made sure she knew she was not, in fact, in control – and then disciplined her. He showed her there were consequences to her actions, which she’d come to expect; but what she _didn’t_ come to expect was how those consequences weren’t just during the times they were having sex, but were during their normal lives, too. Arthur was known to bring their outside life into their sex life – mainly his feelings of jealousy and anger because he had trouble controlling them – but he’d never actually brought their sex life into their _regular life._ But he’d done just that – made her stay naked while in their quarters and made her crawl to him when they were alone, even if it was outside their room.

When she went along with that, Nora knew she’d changed – because doing that shit never made any sense to her; at least not _for her._ Nora was too fiery and mouthy and had a goddamn attitude all the time to be considered a ‘submissive,’ so how the fuck was she supposed to submit to someone – especially _Arthur_ when the man pissed her off so fucking much and so fucking often?

“I feel like I’ve become… docile,” she finally answered. “Like I’ve given up my spark or something, I dunno. I used to have fight in me but now it just feels like I roll over all the time.”

Arthur set the report down on the table, his eyes flicking down to carefully study the side of her face since she wouldn’t look at him, but she still kept fiddling with the pocket on his leg to keep her attention elsewhere. “Nora, it’s only been a week since your last mission. You need time to recuperate because you weren’t doing well, and I wasn’t about to send you into the Glowing Sea with Danse.”

Speaking of which, the paladin hadn’t come back when he was supposed to. No one had heard from him yet – it’d been four days since he left. Nora was worried fucking sick because it shouldn’t have taken this long – should have been two days _tops._

“It’s not that,” she mumbled before sighing and biting at the cloth again; she was glad he never seemed to mind her doing it. “I guess… I just give in so easily to you. I don’t fight you very much on anything anymo—” she was cut off by a loud, snorting laugh and her eyes snapped up to the Elder in confusion. Well, that was super fucking rude.

“Do you really think you don’t fight me very much?” Amusement was written all over his face – what was so fucking funny? She pursed her lips and slightly nodded. “Nora, you fought with me this morning because I wouldn’t let you have my coffee and you don’t even _like_ coffee.”

Oh.

“Yesterday afternoon, you fought with me because I wouldn’t have sex with you while I was in the middle of doing paperwork; then you fought with me _again,_ two hours later, because I was free and willing to have sex, but you’d lost interest.”

“Okay, okay,” she grumbled.

“Last night, you fought with me because I broke up _yet another_ fight between you and Teagan; you became angry with me because I wouldn’t let you ‘sock him in the face,’ as you so eloquently put it.”

“I get it.”

“The day before, you fought me on getting up at 0600 because you wanted to sleep in – and I never make you get up that early. You fought with me _in your sleep.”_

“Okay, okay, okay, Arthur. I get it,” Nora growled as she buried her face against his thigh, grumbling into it.

The Elder reached down and gently brushed his fingers through her hair, and only then did she finally turn her head to look at him from one eye, the other still pressed against his leg. “You’re not docile, love – you’re very far from it.”

The vaultie wasn’t sure if she believed him – this dynamic they were in was new and, at times, slightly concerning; not because it was inappropriate but because it was a tad uncomfortable. She’d come to expect Arthur to take control and knowing what he was like when they were and weren’t having sex helped ease her into what his expectations of her were in either area, including when he’d explained how there would be consequences she’d face that were beyond their sex life.

But after she’d come back from the mission with Danse where they went to retrieve the magnets, and after Arthur had read the report the paladin wrote up – because _of course_ Danse had finished the report earlier than he needed to – he’d pushed her a bit further into it; sort of. That afternoon, the Elder had come into their quarters while she was fiddling with her pip-boy and had dropped a stack of empty folders onto the table with an even bigger stack of papers beside it, then told her to go through the papers and organize them based on what she thought was the most beneficial organizational system pertaining to the information given to her among the documents.

She’d thought he was fucking with her at first because: one, _why_ would she do that; and two, what the fuck are scribes for? Giving her work when she was on the Prydwen was pointless because she never fucking did it – which was why she was always just roaming or lounging around or bothering people while everyone else was actually doing important shit. Hell, even when Danse had a day off, he was still working. But that might have just been him. Regardless, Arthur should have known she wasn’t about to do this shit because Nora didn’t listen to authority figures well. Sort of. She surely didn’t listen to him as her commander, at least.

Until he used _that_ voice. The vaultie hesitated, the cogs in her head spinning and spinning and spinning, requesting grease as they wanted to spin some more while everything was trying to register. But she’d sat her ass down at the table and got to organizing the fucking papers because that’s what Arthur told her to do – no, that’s what Arthur _ordered_ her to do while using _that_ voice. Which was unfair. And he had the gall to just watch her, too; sitting in his usual spot while sipping water – he’d stopping drinking in front of her when they discovered she was pregnant and she was _pretty sure_ he’d stopped smoking altogether, though he never really smoked much, anyway – and observing her work. And when she finished it, he looked over what she’d done to judge the results.

Too many women had an incessant need to appease others – specifically men – due to childhood trauma and daddy issues that went unaddressed and untreated, but Nora had healed those wounds long ago; and yet for some reason, she still found herself wanting to appease Arthur in the work she did whether it was out in the field or in something as simple and minute as organizing fucking papers. She didn’t really feel that way with anyone else – maybe slightly Danse, but nowhere near to the same extent – so it was hard for her to understand it and it just made her feel pathetic. But when he’d made a small hum and leaned in to kiss the top of her head, whispering that she’d done a good job and was a good girl, all sorts of conflicting emotions spread through her – most of them warm.

Him using _that_ voice to get her to do Brotherhood work was unfair, though. She felt betrayed. He’d use it outside their quarters sometimes, mostly just to get her to do things like follow him somewhere or to stop talking or something similar, but he’d never used it to get her to do things she didn’t want or would have hated, like making her _work._ That just felt like a low blow. Still, he brought her tasks every day and they helped consume her time that she’d probably be spending sitting around doing nothing or playing a game on her pip-boy or bothering Danse if he’d been on the Prydwen – which he was _not._ And each time he brought her some, she happily accepted them. Why? Because his praise made her feel fucking warm and fuzzy inside despite how she also felt dumb and pathetic about feeling that way later on. This shit made no sense to her, she didn’t understand this goddamn dynamic. Did she even get a say in the matter anymore?

Nora didn’t see herself as a ‘submissive’ and labeling her as such didn’t make any sense to her – and yet here she was, sitting on the floor between Arthur’s legs with her face on his thigh like a fucking dog. And he hadn’t even asked her to do it – she got down on the floor all by herself, like it was natural. Like she _belonged_ there.

Maybe she did.

“No, I am docile. I’m—” she shook her head and buried her face against his leg again, sighing. “I understand doing it during sex, but… why am I doing it _outside_ of sex? Why are you using that—that voice you know I listen to just to get me to do fucking _paperwork?_ That’s unfair. It makes me not want to listen. I hate it.”

Arthur hummed, his thumb gently stroking over her cheekbone. “You give me your control during sex because it is what you enjoy – what we _both_ enjoy – and because it helps relieve your stress. I started giving you tasks each day because I’ve watched you sit in the room and roam around the Prydwen for days on end while your anxiety fluctuates. You become irritated and moody the longer you have nothing to do, and you’ve even started picking at your nails, which is very uncommon for you.”

Nora’s eyes dropped to her fingers, spotting the cuticles on her thumbs that were red and raw. She didn’t even realize she was doing it. Fuck.

“I know all your tics, Nora, and I can tell when your anxiety is getting better or worse by which tics are happening the most. I also know that the less you have to do, the worse your anxiety gets. When I tried to give you tasks as your commander, you would not do them, which was why I’d had enough and gave them to you as your Dom, instead.”

Ah, that was another thing she’d recently learned: proper titles.

Arthur was not her dom, he was her Dom; he was not her sir, he was her Sir – which she’d figured out were proper capitals, not lowercase. On the other hand, he was _not_ her Daddy, he just liked being _called_ ‘daddy’ when they fucked. That one was more straightforward, she supposed.

And to Arthur, she was his sub, with a lowercase, because he was in control and at the top of the food chain in their dynamic. And, really, everything else in the Commonwealth.

But the concept wasn’t… entirely okay with her. She didn’t want to be _beneath_ him, she wanted to be his _equal;_ she wanted to be at his side. But she also realized Arthur didn’t see everyone this way and he didn’t see _her_ as any less than him nor beneath him, either. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she knew it was different, and she trusted him enough to be willing to find out exactly what was different about it.

“Has your anxiety been as bad since you’ve been given tasks each day?” he asked – but he already knew the answer.

Still, she thought about it, her eyes falling to look at the pocket on his leg again; she’d unzipped it and stuffed her hand inside, fingers wiggling at the very end. “No, I guess not.”

“And would you agree that is because I have not left you to stew in your own thoughts?” Again, he knew the answer, but he wanted her to admit it.

“Yes, Sir.” Proper capital.

A smile ghosted his lips that she didn’t see. “The tasks I give you keep your mind and hands busy for now until I find an appropriate mission to send you on that will not jeopardize your safety. And I know you wouldn’t want domiciliary tasks, which was why I stuck to organizational ones.”

Nora’s eyes flicked back up to his face, studying him for a long moment. He was right – she _definitely_ wouldn’t have been a happy camper if he’d given her the task of cleaning or some shit – even as her Dom, she’d have been pissed as fuck. He knew her well. “Okay,” she said quietly.

But Arthur sighed before nudging her head off his lap and shifting his hips in the chair to where he was leaned back more with his legs spread and feet planted firmly on the ground. “Come up here,” he said gently. Of course, she immediately climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs and leaning her torso against his. “Tell me what else is bothering you.” His hands went to her hips, fingers splaying.

Well, it was either now or never.

Okay, that wasn’t true. But it was either now or let it continue on without addressing it.

“I don’t fully understand this whole… dynamic, I guess.”

“What don’t you understand about it?”

“I get how it works in bed but I’m still iffy on it being anything more than just during sex.”

Arthur hummed a bit, those sky blues studying her face as he thought it over. He’d been better at communicating lately, but she guessed he’d had this talk with one of his subs before. “You’re thinking of it as something much more complex than it is. I have no desire to control when you shower or use your pip-boy or masturbate or anything like that. I enjoy controlling you and the situation during sex but beyond that, it’s not the same.”

Nora leaned forward so her head was on his shoulder and her arms were wrapped around his waist, his own doing the same to her. He placed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“We have… rules, yes, but most of the rules we’ve discussed have ultimately been there from the beginning because they pertain to my rank as Elder. No arguing with me in front of others is a big one, for example. And we have routines, but most of those are for both of us, like the routine of waking up with the alarm, kissing you, showering, coming back to kiss you before I leave and let you sleep a couple more hours. Others are for your anxiety, like giving you tasks each day to keep you busy. All of these things provide structure and they’ve been there since the beginning, but it’s just… more noticeable now.”

One of his hands slid beneath her shirt and began running up and down her spine, making her sigh against his neck. “But the consequences I faced from something I did during sex extended beyond sex. You’ve never done that before,” she said quietly.

“You’re right, I haven’t. Did that bother you? If it did, I need to know so we can discuss what to change. How far we go depends on you, Nora. I’m fine with keeping it to just during sex or where it’s at now, but this all depends on what you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t know. I think… I think I was okay with it. I know I was at the time. I’m just worried it’s not who I am, or that it’s changing me.”

“You have not changed, love. You are still just as fiery and stubborn and mouthy as ever, but you’re also stressed because there is a lot going on. If you prefer, we can back up and any consequences you receive in the future will remain solely during sex.”

The vaultie furrowed her eyebrows, thinking on it for a moment as she chewed on the inside of her lip. She knew she enjoyed doing it to some extent, at least; and she wanted to try – she really did. While this dynamic was slightly concerning and definitely frustrating, it was something new and she wanted to at least give it a try, if not because she was curious then because it was what _he_ wanted. And maybe that was the wrong thing to want – maybe Nate would have yelled at her, called her an idiot, told her he didn’t approve of wanting to sacrifice herself into whatever sort of relationship dynamic this was. But something inside her wanted to try it out – and Arthur was willing to back up if she wanted to, so she felt confident they could. She trusted him.

“No, I think—I think we should try it still. Maybe… for a little longer? I don’t know what goes further than what we’ve done so far but I’m not sure I want it. But this is fine for now, I think.”

“Don’t worry, love, we won’t go any further.”

Nora nestled into him, placing a few gentle kisses to his neck before releasing a relaxed sigh against his skin while he returned the kisses to her temple. “What else?”

“I’m worried about Danse.”

“Mm. Yes, I figured you were.”

“Have you heard anything? He’s been gone for too long; he said it’d only be two days, tops.”

“No, love, I’m sorry, we haven’t. I’ve sent patrols out looking for him, but I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything out.”

Nora liked to think she knew Arthur fairly well by now; he was a master tactician and knew how to strategically weave around words without giving too much or too little information, and he knew how to speak about something sensitive without actually lying about it or confirming it as truth, so when he just weaved around words right to her face, well...

She knew Arthur was fucking hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellloooo! please keep in mind this month will have slower updates because of kinktober. I plan to post a one shot every day for it and that takes time! there will probably be some nora/arthur one shots, as well, so keep a look out.
> 
> some of you might be wondering what the point of this chapter was. nora and arthur are slowly moving further into their dom/sub dynamic so it's no longer just during sex, and this chapter is nora trying to figure out what that means, how she fits into it, what's expected of her, and all that. she asks arthur questions while thinking less of herself for falling into a situation where she thinks she might not be seen as an equal but, at the same time, thinking she's alright with it because she knows arthur does actually see her as his equal. you can see how she was fine with the consequences in the other chapter but now in this one she wasn't sure if she was, and she'll sort of swing back and forth until she gets the hang of it and figures out where she wants to be.
> 
> I want to clarify they _will not_ be going into a 24/7 dom/sub relationship because that's not something nora would ever be comfortable with and, while arthur might enjoy it, he'd probably get burned out very quickly.
> 
> if I need to make up for this chapter with some smut, just say so. because y’all know I’ll do it.


	66. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could feel the color drain from her face as she finally met his gaze, though the rage in his eyes hadn’t lessened as it burned holes in her skin and made her want to hide. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head just slightly. “No, there has to be some kind of mistake, Arthur. That can’t be true.”
> 
> There was no fucking way Danse was a synth.

It’d been an entire fucking week, and no one had heard from Danse – not a fucking word – despite him having a comms unit built into his power armor from when he’d accompanied her on the mission to kill a courser. From what she understood, he’d been in contact with the Prydwen for the first day and a half but by the end of the second day, there was no word from him – nothing. Nora had tried to get Arthur to tell her if her paladin had at least found the storage facility in the Glowing Sea that he was sent to look for, but the Elder wouldn’t even give her that; instead, he kept telling her they were still looking, still searching, and that they’d find him one way or another. That he’d bring Danse home no matter what.

And while he didn’t actually need to say it aloud, she knew he meant he’d bring Danse home even if all they found was a lifeless body. The Brotherhood didn’t bury their dead, rather preferring to burn them to prevent the spread of disease, but she knew they’d bring Danse’s body back to the ship to give him a proper sendoff first.

But… Nora didn’t want him to be treated like any other soldier because he _wasn’t_ like anyone else. Danse deserved something special, to be put to rest, but would the Brotherhood let her bury him like she’d done for Nate? She was close with her paladin and she’d absolutely meant it when she’d said he was her best friend; and if she was able, she’d like to bury him at Sanctuary, up at the top of the hill beside her husband—

No, she couldn’t entertain those thoughts right now. Danse wasn’t dead. He’d survived so much shit thus far that there was no way he’d have died now. She couldn’t believe it – she wouldn’t.

The vaultie found herself worrying and picking at the cuticles on her thumbs as she sat naked on her and Arthur’s bed with her legs crossed. It was still early in the morning, but she hadn’t bothered to get dressed after Arthur woke her up for the day a couple hours ago; they’d fucked but he’d had to rush out to a meeting among his officers, leaving her to stew in her own anxiety – so she lost the motivation to even get dressed. And since he’d rushed off, he hadn’t given her any tasks for the day yet, though she also struggled with finding constructive things for herself to do, as well, so she was just left to sit in the room and allow her negative thoughts to engulf her. 

Her mind was straying to all the possibilities of what could have happened to Danse when the bulkhead was abruptly opened and Arthur stormed into their quarters, slamming it shut behind him and, at the same time, ripping her from the prison of her own mind. Two sky blue eyes that she could pick out of a crowded space were now dark as they zeroed in on her, meeting her confused gaze across the room, and even from such a distance she could see the rage swirling in his irises.

And when he advanced on her, panic shot through her veins like med-x.

Immediately, Nora’s body went into fight-or-flight mode, her brain choosing flight as the appropriate response to a man twice her size charging at her while she was essentially cornered while also completely naked, leaving her vulnerable. She scooted away from him while still on the bed, her back ending up pressed against the wall behind her, eyes wide as she stared at him and brows furrowed; the sudden rush of adrenaline caused by fear was even making her breathing become labored. She didn’t normally react to him like this – didn’t normally cower in fear – because she’d never really been given a reason to fear him; then again, it also wasn’t common for him to enter the room and charge her like a fucking bull the moment he looked at her, either.

Arthur was on the bed with her in no time, holding himself up by his knees as his thighs were straddling her legs, his palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in between his body and the wall and bed. Nora curled her body, trying to make herself seem as small as possible compared to him – which wasn’t hard because Arthur was fucking _huge_ compared to her – and she kept her eyes away from his, her head turned to her left even as he leaned forward and spoke in a growling, demanding tone.

“Did you know?”

Royal blue eyes flitted around to different spots on his arm as if his rolled-up sleeve would give her the answer he was looking for. He hadn’t come in with his battle coat despite how he’d left with it earlier, though she wasn’t sure where it was now; he must have gotten angry enough to storm out of the meeting and come straight to her. “I—I don’t know what you mean?” she whispered; but it was followed up with a flinch when Arthur lifted his hand from the wall, curled his fingers, and _thumped_ his fist against the metal. The fact it was right in front of her face was so much worse, almost as if he was threatening her.

Arthur had never threatened to hit her before despite how handsy he became when he was angry, grabbing her chin and cornering her and pinning her down; and while his action now wasn’t necessarily a threat, it was close enough to one that it made Nora’s stomach twist from it. It reminded her of a situation about a month ago where they were fighting, and she’d seen Arthur clenching and unclenching his fists as they had their heated argument. He’d invaded her space while he was doing it and, for a second, she thought he might strike her, so she gave him the first and final warning he’d receive on it.

_”I’m only going to tell you this one time, Arthur, so listen closely. If you ever lay your hands on me, I will leave and never come back, so you better fucking control yourself. You’re lucky I even tolerate your grabbing when I shouldn’t, but don’t you ever think I’ll put up with you striking me, because I won’t. That’ll be the last fucking straw.”_

But this time was different. Worse.

“Your ignorance is awfully convenient,” he hissed, and she could only flinch again and curl in on herself some more. “Ingram finished decrypting the data you gave her from the Institute. A portion of those findings included a list of synths that went missing or escaped from their underground facility.” Nora’s eyebrows furrowed as she kept flicking her gaze to different spots on his arm – but so long as they were looking anywhere but his face, that was fine with her. She was too fucking scared to look at him. “And would you guess who showed up as a perfect fucking match for one of the synths on the list?”

The vaultie went quiet as she tried to think of any possible answer to his question. Who could have matched the list of synths? Herself, maybe? Had she somehow been replaced along the way without realizing it? No, that didn’t make sense – she was pregnant, and synths couldn’t reproduce. Besides, Shaun would have said something to her about it… right? 

Still, she had no clue, though Arthur was clearly expecting her to know the answer. His fist hit the wall again directly in front of her face like before, though this time a little harder, and she knew his knuckles had to be aching; but she flinched at the action and cried out in fear, a few tears slipping down her freckled cheeks. Maxson had never tried to scare her like this before. Sure, he’d tried to _intimidate_ her with his height and size in the beginning, but Nora was shorter than many people and so it was hard to actually succeed with that. But his attempts to outright scare her? To make her cower in fear? She never recalled a time before like this.

“I asked you a fucking question, Nora. Who do you think showed up as a perfect match for one of the synths on the list?”

“I—I don’t know, Arthur. I don’t know!”

The laugh that came from his throat was mixed with a scoff, telling her he didn’t believe her. “Danse. Paladin fucking Danse. The same Danse who went missing a week ago. The same Danse who abandoned his power armor once he reached the storage facility.”

She could feel the color drain from her face as she finally met his gaze, though the rage in his eyes hadn’t lessened as it burned holes in her skin and made her want to hide. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head just slightly. “No, there has to be some kind of mistake, Arthur. That can’t be true.”

There was no fucking way Danse was a synth.

But the Elder let out another scoffing laugh again. “You know just as well as I do that Ingram doesn’t make mistakes. Besides, she validated the information numerous times by comparing it to the records we have on file before bringing it to me. His— _its_ —DNA is a perfect match for a synth they called M7-97.”

This was becoming too much to take in, especially all at once. Nora found herself looking away from him again, though rather than turning her head like before, her eyes just dropped down and to the side a little, looking more toward his shoulder but not even focusing on it. The vaultie just shook her head again as she tried to digest all the information, attempting to determine what Arthur was going to do about everything before he actually told her so she could try to soften the blow.

His head ducked so she was looking at his face rather than his shoulder and she locked eyes with him once more. “I’m finding it difficult to believe he never confided in you and then swore you to secrecy; you were ‘best friends,’ after all.” When he spoke this time, his voice was a little quieter but the venom in the words had drastically increased – like he was hurt by the thought and assumption Danse had told her he was a synth and she’d dared to keep such vital information from her lover.

Maybe she would have.

But his accusations still pissed her off, regardless. “After everything I’ve done for you and the fucking Brotherhood,” she began, her eyes boring into his as a glare had consumed her expression despite the tears that continued to slip over her bottom lids, “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me of lying, Arthur Maxson.”

She should have expected it when one of his hands went to her jaw like it had so many times before, thick fingers wrapping around her jaw with a grip that was much too tight for comfort and might even leave bruises on her cheeks. “Now is not the time you should want to backtalk, Parker. I am not in the mood for childish games. You fought side-by-side with Danse and were close; I find it impossible to believe you were ignorant of his— _its_ —true identity.”

The fear in her blood was beginning to mix with anger and she could feel how her heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to explode. She wanted it to. “You’ve been close with him since you were a teenager and you’ve fought side-by-side with him longer than I have, but suddenly _I’m_ the one who’s at fault?” Nora scoffed and tried to pull her head away, but the hold he had on her jaw kept her from going anywhere. “Have you forgotten how close the two of you were? How he pulled bullets out of your fucking thighs?”

His jaw tensed and Nora realized she’d hit a sore spot, but then it dawned on her she wasn’t defending herself anymore – she was defending Danse’s right to exist by pointing out how he’d saved Arthur’s life and was his best friend.

But the Elder’s face remained hardened; the expression of a soldier. “Danse is a synth,” he hissed. “It represents everything we hate – a monstrosity of technology.” 

He sounded so different compared to a few hours ago, where his voice was soft and husky and filled with lust as he pinned her wrists to the bed while he fucked her. Now, there was venom in his tone, like a snake had slithered its way down his throat during his meeting and taken over his voice; it hurt to hear him speak this way, but she always knew this was who Arthur really was. Never addressing his bigotry towards synths and ghouls and even super mutants like Strong was coming back to bite her in the ass.

“Our mission in the Commonwealth is clear,” he continued. “The Institute and its creations need to be destroyed in order to preserve our future.”

“ _Whose_ future!?” she snarled.

“ _Our_ future – our _family’s_ future, Nora. The future of human fucking kind. Synths are dangerous and they pose a risk to us all.” He finally released her jaw and placed his hand back onto the wall beside her head to where his body was caging her in once more. “And that leaves me facing the most difficult order I’ve ever given.” His face didn’t soften, and his voice didn’t change with the words he spewed even though he tried to make them seem remorseful; but she knew where this was going. She fucking knew.

The fear and panic in her veins had never fully dissipated to let anger completely take over, so when he began to speak, she knew how her body would react.

A chill went up her spine.

“Don’t, Arthur,” she breathed. Tears had slowly been falling down her cheeks still but now they were spilling over much more rapidly, streaming down in rivulets, her freckles resembling stones at the bottoms of the tiny paths of water. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she warned. “Please.” Nora’s voice cracked with her plea and she watched his jaw tense again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard – but his features never softened; he kept his face set in a scowl as those icy blue eyes that carried years of childhood trauma and the desire to prove to the world he was a fucking monster kept boring down into her as he issued his order.

“I’m ordering you to hunt down Danse—”

“Nonononononono!”

“—And execute him.”

Arthur stared down at her with those beautiful eyes and she knew she could get lost in their sky blue color, twisting and turning and barrel rolling like a prewar plane, leaving a message in the clouds about how fucking much she loved him. Even when his irises were swirling like storm clouds ready to move over the horizon, filled with rage and fury and what might have been the slight glimpse of remorse, she knew she could still stare in them all goddamn day.

_”Nora.”_

Nora knew long ago she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. He made her happy, made her smile, made her stomach flutter like she was some young teenage schoolgirl again; and now he was giving her something she didn’t have anymore – a family. They were having a baby and she’d finally get the chance to be a mother again, to raise a child with him and prove she could be a good mom. And Arthur would make sure no one took their baby from her. He’d protect her; he’d protect _them._

God, she loved him. She loved him so fucking much.

_”Parker.”_

The vaultie had stopped feeling so bad about how she’d lost Nate and found someone else so quickly, and instead finally accepted the fact her late husband was gone, and she was allowed to move on. It was hard, of course, and she still wore their wedding rings on her finger, but that was really all she had left of him – other than the stone that still sat on the table in the exact same spot Arthur had let her place it however long ago. Each time she went back to visit Nate since then, she’d asked Arthur to go with her, and he’d always made the time to do so; he helped keep her calm and made everything okay, and she knew then Nate would approve of her new love – of her new family.

_”Look at me.”_

Sturges and Preston had found a new way to mark Nate’s grave since she took the stone from it, apparently both men finding something but unable to agree on which one to use and instead compromising to use both. Preston had brought a large stick and dug one end of it into the ground to where it was pointing toward the sky, and Sturges found two large stones, placing them on either end of the stick. Nora was appreciative of the effort but tried not to laugh or anything about their choices, just choosing to instead relish in the fact Nate would have loved how his grave marker definitely looked like a dick and balls. Arthur agreed.

_”Damnit, Parker. Eyes on me.”_

She blinked a few times as her eyes snapped up to Arthur, seeing him still looming over her and caging her in between his body and the wall and bed. Fear and panic were still flowing through her veins and she immediately went straight into a panic attack.

She needed to get away. She needed to get away from _him._

Quickly, Nora ducked under his arm and tried to scramble off the bed, almost making it all the way over the metal footrail before his hands grasped her hips, fingers digging into her bare skin as he pulled her back. When she was close enough, he wrapped an arm around her midsection and pulled her flush against his chest — but she continued to fight, her feet planting on the bed as she tried to kick off and push herself away, and her hands going to his arm, nails digging into the skin as she scratched at him, attempting to make him release her.

But expecting Arthur to let her go was like expecting a mirelurk queen to stop laying eggs.

“Nora—” he tried, but she wasn’t listening. He seemed mostly unaffected by the scratching aside from an occasional hiss when the skin broke in different areas.

“Nonononoo, I won’t do it. I can’t. You can’t make me do that, Arthur.”

The Elder’s other arm wrapped around her upper torso and his body shifted so he was sitting, his back against the wall and legs outstretched and slightly bent in front of him. His legs were atop hers, calves trapping her own and keeping her from kicking as she was settled in his lap, between his thighs while he held her close. The only thing she could do to him now was either try to headbutt him – but she knew Arthur was too fast for that and she’d just end up hurting herself – or keep scratching at his arm to try to get him to let go; she opted for the latter.

Within a minute, the top of his right forearm was a fucking mess. Red, hypertrophic lines from her nails scratching at him were everywhere and many spots had overlapped so much that he was bleeding, leaving chunks of his skin and blood beneath her nails and dripping down his arm. The only reason she’d even stopped was because she’d lost the energy to keep fighting and instead just began crying harder.

She felt the side of his face press against her ear and the sweat from his skin felt hot against the shell. He was breathing heavily like she was, and she could feel his chest heaving against her back, his breath coming out in quick, heavy exhales. He must have gotten worn out from her thrashing – good.

“Please,” she whispered, trying to grab for any last shred of decency he might have left; but at this point, she wasn’t sure if there was any. He couldn’t do this to her; he just couldn’t. She was fucking begging him to not order her to kill her best friend. Nora had already lost so much, why would he make her lose more? And why would he make her be the one to pull the trigger?

“You will do it, Nora,” he said quietly, his voice right beside her ear. “This is not up for judgment or debate. It is a direct order and I expect you to follow it without question.” He wasn’t using his Dom voice, which she was glad for, but part of her wondered if he was tempted to do it just because he could.

“Please, Arthur. I can’t,” she sobbed.

“I know Danse was your mentor and your friend and that this isn’t an easy burden to bear, but if we are to remain strong, we can’t afford to make exceptions.” She didn’t reply to him and instead just kept crying. “He disappeared before any of us even found out, Nora. He abandoned us – he abandoned _you._ What kind of friend does that? What kind of friend leaves you blind to who they truly are?”

She knew he was trying to get her angry at Danse, but it would never work; Danse was her best friend. Nothing would change that – not even if he was turned into a fucking super mutant. And the more Arthur tried to convince her otherwise, the worse it hurt and the harder she cried.

He was holding her between his legs and tightly against his chest still, his upper body beginning to rock back and forth as he cradled her, trying to calm her down while also reinforcing the fact she’d still obey his order, even as her commander. “You’re a very good girl, Nora. An excellent soldier. I know you can do this for me because you’re so strong. Such a good girl. I promise everything will be alright in the end.”

She wanted to fight him — to knock that praise right out of his fucking mouth. But she knew fighting him was futile. And after a while of him rocking her back and forth, whispering soft words and praises to her to calm her down while holding her against his chest, she finally got her breathing under control. Only then did he speak again.

“You will leave in an hour to find him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware Quinlan is the one who decrypts the thingy, but I wanted Ingram to be the one to do it here, so yeah.


	67. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Technology didn’t lay waste to the world; it didn’t wipe out the entire fucking planet. Men did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: suicidal thoughts

Synth.

Synth.

Synthsynthsynthsynthsynthsynthsynth.

Not human. Nope. Not human at all.

 _In_ human.

A monstrosity.

An abomination.

He should just shoot himself, really – should have done it a week ago. What was he even waiting for? It wasn’t like anyone would come save him; and what would they even save him _from?_ He was a synth. The enemy. Danse had betrayed the Brotherhood of Steel; he’d betrayed his family, his friends – everything he’d ever known. Why would anyone ever save him, tell him it was okay, that nothing was as it seemed?

If anything, he’d rather them do him a solid and splatter his goddamn brains all over the cold, concrete walls. This place could use some interior decorating, anyway.

He was too much of a coward to do it himself.

But how could he have not known? He should have known. He _must_ have known somewhere along the line, right? That just didn’t seem like something he could _forget_ – that he wasn’t human but instead a synth that was programmed to think and feel certain ways, so nothing was actually real, and he was just fakefakefakefake.

Did he think in binary code, too?

God, he shouldn’t have run, should have just faced the inevitable consequences of his existence; but when he’d gotten word from Haylen, passed on from Ingram, about what was found on the holodisk… he’d panicked. He’d just arrived at the storage facility in the Glowing Sea when he received the news and didn’t know what to do, so he’d ditched his power armor – knowing there was a tracker and comms unit inside that would allow the Brotherhood to at least complete his mission of acquiring the bombs for Liberty Prime – and fled to a fallback point he and his team had established a while ago when they’d first arrived within the Commonwealth.

He had no idea what he was going to do when he arrived, but he knew he needed to regroup and assess the situation; and when he finally did, all he could do was just… sit there. So, he’d been at Listening Post Bravo for a week, alone, with barely any food or water and not even a whisper of human contact. Or synth contact. Or _any_ contact other than the gun he occasionally shoved in his mouth as he mentally begged himself to pull the trigger.

All Danse could do now, though, was sit on the cold, concrete floor with his back to the wall and his head in his hands. He threaded his fingers into his hair and kept his eyes tightly closed, trying to will himself to do something – _anything_ – other than just sit there, but he still had just as much luck doing that as he did every other day for the past week.

But today was different as the sound of gunshots within the bunker caught his attention; the cracks of firepower echoing off the concrete walls and vibrating his ears, announcing someone’s presence.

_Finally._

Finally, someone had come – on Maxson’s orders, undoubtedly – to kill him and put him out of his misery, and it was a relief to know he didn’t have to do try to convince himself to do it much longer.

The shots grew closer and Danse brought himself to stand, waiting for the person to come around the corner – but he didn’t expect it to be _her._

He should have, though.

“Shit,” he breathed as he watched the vault dweller round the corner of the broken wall. Her face was red and eyes puffy like she’d recently been crying, and his heart sank at the sight of her. Ingram would have told Maxson about what she’d found on the holodisk not long after she instructed Haylen to warn Danse because the proctor knew it was something she couldn’t keep hidden for long, so he expected someone to be sent after him, presumably to execute him – and who better to send on the hunt to take out the traitor than the traitor’s best friend, testing and solidifying her loyalty? “Parker.”

“Danse,” she croaked as her face crinkled and tears started pouring down her freckled cheeks. Her plasma rifle was dropped to the floor before she began running at him, but he flinched as the gun clattered to the ground; Nora was always so irresponsible with her weapons that he was surprised she never accidentally shot someone – or at least she hadn’t to his knowledge.

The vaultie’s body collided with his with enough force to send him back half a step, her arms wrapping around his midsection as she clung to him and he immediately wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her tightly to his chest and leaning down to kiss the top of her head affectionately. “He shouldn’t have sent you,” he mumbled against her hair; the red locks were damp with sweat, but he couldn’t care less. “God, he should have sent anyone but you. Should have just come himself, but he never liked to do his own dirty work.”

Nora buried her face against his sternum and Danse couldn’t help but run his fingers along her hair, trying to calm her down since she was still crying as he held her close. Maybe she was more broken up about this than he was – then again, Nora was always more outwardly emotional than him, and even more than most people he knew. She was allowed that luxury, being prewar.

“I don’t understand what the fuck is happening, Danse,” she mumbled against him.

The paladin sighed, kissing the top of her head again before resting his cheek there. “Believe me, I’m shocked, too. I didn’t know. Until Ingram decoded that list, I had no idea… what I was. I never expected this. If it wasn’t for her and Haylen, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

She made a slight laughing noise against his chest before pulling away just enough to look up at him, sniffling. “I always knew they were good people.”

Danse pulled away from her a little more, just enough for his hands to raise and cup her cheeks. “Parker,” he said softly, and he watched as her eyebrows furrowed while she peered back at him. “What are your orders? Does Maxson even want me alive?”

He could feel her jaw tense beneath his palms as more tears welled in her eyes, a few escaping over the bottom lids, but he just gently brushed them away with his thumbs. She didn’t answer at first, instead just staring at him while he felt her jaw clench and unclench beneath his hands; he gave her as much time as she needed to tell him what her orders were even though he already knew the answer – Maxson wanted him dead. Danse was a synth, a traitor, an enemy of the Brotherhood of Steel who had – unknowingly – infiltrated their ranks and was now something that could harm them because he knew too much.

Nora looked down, away from his face, as she shook her head. “No,” she finally whispered in a slightly raspy voice like she’d been screaming for hours, giving him the answer to his question. “But I’m hoping there’s a way out. There has to be.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said sternly, but he knew his voice didn’t hold as much weight as he wanted it to – as he _needed_ it to. She had to follow through. “Look, I’m not blind to the fact that we’re friends,” he began and royal blue eyes snapped up to his face; he saw a fire ignite behind them, warning him that he was saying the wrong thing – but he’d already begun, so it was too late now, “And I know this must be very difficult for you. I wish he’d sent someone else, but… that doesn’t change anything.” Her jaw was clenching and unclenching beneath his palms again and he immediately thought of Cade scolding him for doing the same thing, warning him of the headaches it brought on. “I’m a synth – I need to be destroyed. I don’t deserve to… live or exist, or whatever it is synths do.”

“Don’t,” she finally warned. “Don’t you dare. You’re starting to sound just like him.”

Danse visibly winced at the comparison to Arthur, his eyes looking away as he allowed his hands to drop from her face; but his gaze soon returned to her own. “Parker, if you disobey your orders, you’re not only betraying Maxson, you’re betraying the Brotherhood and everything it stands for.”

But she scoffed at his words. _Scoffed._ “Do you actually think I care about the Brotherhood, Danse?” She watched as a look of disapproval took over his face, but she didn’t even pause. “I know it’s what saved you and it’s all Arthur knows, but the Brotherhood doesn’t mean shit to me – it’s the people I care about that mean something. You and Arthur and Haylen and Ingram and, fuck, even Rhys’ stupid ass.”

He shook his head before stepping away from her, one of his hands running through his hair as he started pacing. The Brotherhood meant everything to him – and she was right, it did save him; it saved him and Cutler from their nowhere lives as junk traders in the Capital Wasteland and gave them purpose, and even after Cutler’s death, Danse found a meaning for himself among their ranks. But now, here she was, insulting the very thing that changed how he was destined to arrive at a dead end and instead gave him limitless options and encouraged him to exceed beyond his potential.

“No. I don’t—” he paused. “The Brotherhood is right: synths can’t be trusted. Machines were never meant to make their own decisions; they— _we_ —need to be controlled. Technology that’s run amok is what brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction.”

He was quiet for a moment before he turned back to face her, but when he met her gaze, he realized it wasn’t a gaze at all – it was a glare. Nora’s nostrils were flaring, and her face was tato red again; he’d angered her – no, he’d _enraged_ her.

“Technology was never the problem,” she hissed. “It was _people._ Men with greedy ambitions who were inconsiderate of the populace around them are what brought the entire world to its knees and sent humanity to the brink of extinction. They sent poor people off to war to invade other countries because oil was running out when there was an energy crisis, destroying other nations because the rich and powerful were too fucking greedy and power hungry and never had to raise a goddamn finger on their own – nor send their own children out to fight.”

Danse’s eyebrows furrowed and shoulders drooped as he listened. She’d went through the war before the bombs dropped and knew from first-hand experience how it had all happened; all he knew came from any surviving books that were printed just before the bombs dropped and whatever information the Brotherhood was able to find and share, as well as history lessons he learned when he was younger.

“People like you and Nate were always the ones who got sent out to fight; if not voluntarily, then you were forced into it by being drafted.” He briefly wondered why she hadn’t included Arthur in the list but thought better than to ask. “Technology didn’t lay waste to the world; it didn’t wipe out the entire fucking planet. Men did.” Nora’s voice had quieted down as she finished speaking, her eyes falling to the ground with furrowed brows as she seemed to get lost in thought, perhaps remembering times from the past.

It made sense with what she was saying – nuclear bombs were what wiped out the world, sure, but men were the reason any of that even existed. Arthur often compared synths to the atom bomb, but was that even an accurate comparison? Atom bombs didn’t have free will, only buttons that were pressed to launch them into the air and direct them to their targets – synths, on the other hand, could make decisions. Danse could choose who to kill; no one made that choice for him.

“I’m dangerous, Parker,” he said quietly. “I need to be the example, not the exception.”

His words, however, set her off again. “No, fuck you!” she snarled, and the paladin winced at her voice being much louder than it was a few moments ago; he tore his eyes from her and settled them back on the ground. “You’ve sat in this fucking bunker for an entire _week_ stewing in this self-hatred bullshit; I know _exactly_ what that’s like.” The vaultie was in front of him now, her watery eyes glaring up into his dry ones; their blue color was brighter than usual, the red around her irises from crying must have been making the color stand out more. “I’m a giant fucking ball of emotions, Danse, and I can tell you that right now, what you’re showing me? It’s a human fucking emotion. And don’t you _dare_ tell me or think otherwise. Synth or not, what you’re experiencing is _real_ and it’s _human.”_

He ran his fingers through his hair again, unable to tear his gaze away from her this time. Why did she insist on fighting him about this? Why did she insist on trying to convince him to see himself as something other than what he truly was – a monstrosity, a piece of junk gone wrong? “I’ve already made my decision, Parker. I’m ready to accept the consequences of my true identity. Maxson’s ordered you to execute me – I know he has – and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand in your wa—”

He didn’t expect the hand across his face – but he deserved it, nonetheless. And the second. And the third. And the shove to his chest that didn’t even send him stumbling back but instead sent _her_ stumbling back.

“Fuck you, Danse! Fuck you!” Tears had formed in her eyes and immediately spilled over the bottom lids, pouring down her face again while her voice cracked as she yelled at him. She shoved at his chest once more before trying to swipe at his face again, but her strike was weak and he just gently caught her wrist, instead pulling her against his chest and into his arms. Nora collapsed against him, her knees seeming to give out beneath her – but that was fine, because he just held her tightly. “I won’t do it. Fuck you and fuck Arthur for trying to make me. I’ve already lost my first family; I don’t want to lose my second one.”

His chest felt tight when she said he was part of her family and the only response he could provide was guiding her over toward the wall and leaning his back against it before sinking down to the floor, letting her sit between his bent knees as he continued cradling her in his arms. “Okay, Parker. Okay,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t consider how my death might affect the people who care about me. I’m just… really struggling with this.”

“I know,” she whispered, “But I’m here for you. I wouldn’t leave you to deal with this alone.”

They fell silent for a long time as they sat there, her body still between his bent knees as she was leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped around her to hold her close. Her torso was rising and falling with each breath he took, and in return, he listened to her own breathing, hearing the shakiness in it calm down until there was only the occasional involuntary gasp or sniffle. 

He had trouble determining who was more broken up about this entire situation – him or her.

But her voice eventually broke the silence. “What now?” she whispered.

He didn’t give her an answer at first because he wasn’t even sure _what_ the answer was. Danse couldn’t go back to the Prydwen to face Maxson or anyone in the Brotherhood, but he also couldn’t stay in the bunker; the only other option was escaping Boston. “I think I need to leave the Commonwealth,” he said quietly. She tensed at the admission, but he couldn’t blame her – he’d be leaving everyone and everything he knew behind, specifically her. They’d gotten so close since she’d joined the Brotherhood; whereas they first started out bickering all the time while she teased him and took advantage of how he didn’t quite fully understand the jokes she made – especially the inappropriate ones – they eventually became close after the situation in the showers – after Maxson had… well…

But he’d been fond of Nora since before then, feeling strongly for her when he’d learned how compassionate and determined she was, even if she was utterly exhausting to be around – and even if those feelings weren’t returned. They’d kissed a couple times and almost had sex when they were drunk one night, but ultimately, it never went anywhere and they both knew it never would. He still felt for her, of course, and sometimes he wondered if she still felt something for him like she’d admitted however long ago; but the two of them weren’t meant to be together, and that was fine.

Despite being just friends, however, they were perhaps more intimate with one another than friends normally were. Like now, he held her and cradled her against his chest, kissing the top of her head while she was settled between his legs; and other times she would hang on him and even cuddle against him when they were sitting around talking, her making sexual jokes and remarks that made him turn red, though he never actually minded.

But they were platonic and that’s all they ever would be – and both of them were just fine with that.

“Are you sure?” she asked, bringing him out of his own head as she looked up at him from where the side of her face was resting against his chest.

Leaving his old life behind would be hard, this, he knew, because the Brotherhood was his life; it saved him and made him into who he was today. And leaving the people who cared about him – the people he cared about? Nora and Haylen and, god forbid, Arthur? He’d be stepping out into the unknown with nothing and no one.

“Yeah.”

“Will you go to Sanctuary for a bit first? Preston might be able to help and Arthur won’t look for you there, plus it’s out of the way of any patrols.”

He hesitated, thinking it through and if it was a good idea, but eventually conceded. “Alright, sure. Only for a few days, though. But I think I should leave soon; I have no doubt Maxson will try to keep an eye on where you might go, so it’s only a matter of time before he has someone follow you here.” Danse pulled one hand away from her, reaching into the collar of his flight suit and grabbing the chain that hung around his neck, pulling it out from under his clothing and then tugging it until it broke free. When he held the chain up in front of her, those royal blue eyes settled on the two tags that dangled at the bottom before she held her hand out, which the paladin then slowly set the tags on her palm before piling the chain on top. “Use my holotags to prove to him that you did what you were told, or he’ll just send someone else out to hunt me down.”

Nora wrapped her fingers around the tags and pulled her hand against her chest, holding them close. And when her eyes turned to him, her brows furrowed as she studied his face as if she was looking for some sort of guidance, he could only gently cup her cheeks again. God, he felt horrible.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, and one of his cheeks pulled up in a pathetic attempt at a sad half-smile.

“I know. But the longer I stick around, the more of a chance he’ll find me or someone else will and then it’ll be discovered that you didn’t kill me.”

She sighed before nodding her head, a couple more tears slipping down her freckled cheeks that he just whisked away with his thumbs. “Okay.”

Leaning in, Danse pressed his lips to her forehead, holding the kiss to her skin for a few seconds before he pulled back. “Come on, Parker. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

══════════════════

She followed Danse outside, her arms anxiously crossed over her stomach as her plasma rifle was strapped to her back, feeling no need to have it out anymore. The vaultie wasn’t entirely sure how to get him to the border of the Commonwealth, but she knew getting him to Preston might help, and he’d promised to stay in Sanctuary for a few days which gave them some time to figure it out—

“How _dare_ you!”

Nora froze in her steps to the left of Danse, not even having made it more than ten steps outside the bunker before that familiar, husky voice was snarling at her from twenty feet in front of them. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up to see him – Arthur – standing there with that same look of pure rage in his eyes that she’d seen in their quarters before she’d left to find Danse. Part of her wanted to cower in fear again.

Fuck, she was terrified.

“It’s not her fault—” Danse started but was cut off by Arthur nearly hissing at him.

“Shut the fuck up.” The Elder swiped his hand in the air from one side to the other as if he were shoving the mere idea of Danse away. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” From there, those eyes that reminded her of the bluest sky turned their attention back to her and she wanted to fucking _hide._ “Parker,” he barked, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as her jaw began to tremble. “Here. Now.” Oh, fuck. Oh, god. Nora’s breathing was starting to turn into short, rapid bursts and her jaw clenched and unclenched. Should she go to him? Should she stay by Danse, where it might be safer for now? If she went to Arthur, what would he do to her? What would he do to _Danse?_

“Come. Here.” That was all it took for her to start moving, one foot stepping out in a nearly-robotic reaction so she could approach him – but Danse’s arm shot out in front of her, stopping her. A panicked expression washed over Nora’s face and she glanced up to her paladin and then to Arthur, repeating the action one more time. Oh, fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m not going to let you corner and intimidate her because of something I’ve done, Arthur.”

When her eyes were back on the Elder, she realized he hadn’t even looked away from her and was instead staring her down, as if he was daring her to not push past Danse and come to him; and all she could do was stare right back with wide eyes while her heart was racing from panic.

The entire time, she questioned herself – should she go to him? Should she remain with Danse? Should she just stay quiet?

No, there was something else she needed to address, first.

“Did you actually follow me?” Her voice was quiet, but she knew he heard her – she could see him stand up straight and tip his head up.

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed, and she just scoffed. “I suspected you’d have difficulty following my orders – clearly, my instincts were correct. So, tell me, why the fuck is this _thing_ still alive, Parker?”

Nora was trying to keep her breathing under control, but her panic was beginning to combine with rage and that was making her take shaky breaths through her nose, her nostrils flaring in the process. “If you actually wanted him dead, you wouldn’t have sent me.”

Arthur bristled – there was no doubt about that – but he ignored her words and instead kept on with his tirade. _”Him!?”_ he snarled. “Danse isn’t a _man,_ it’s a _machine._ An automaton created by the Institute.”

Fuck, what had happened to this man? What had the Brotherhood done to him to make him hate so much – to make him hate so strongly? To make him hate everything that was different than him? Was that just their core belief and she’d managed to ignore it for so long, or had he developed them all on his own with only a slight nudge in that direction? Was _he_ the reason the Brotherhood hated synths the way it did?

He was so young and yet he hated so much – he hated way beyond his years. It terrified her.

It terrified her that he might end up just like Shaun: old and alone and so full of spite.

“By attempting to play God, the Institute has taken the sanctity of human life and corrupted it beyond measure.” Arthur still had his eyes on her and she had yet to look away, both holding the other’s glare; it was almost a challenge.

Nora wished she could help him – she wished she could fix him somehow. She’d tried everything. She’d tried to fix his lack of emotional understanding and had even succeeded to some extent; she’d tried to fix how he expressed himself and, shit, he was actually doing better with that; she even managed to get him communicating more about what he was thinking and what he wanted and expected from others outside of just Brotherhood missions. And she’d even helped him get his emotions under control to some extent, teaching him how to control the impulsive child inside him that had never grown up after years and years of childhood trauma, and instead coaxing him to stick closer to the in-control adult side of himself.

But now, here he was, standing before her and Danse, demanding she kill the paladin – demanding she kill her _best fucking friend_ – because he was a synth. And he was even giving a fucking monologue in the process.

“You’re a single bomb in an arsenal of thousands preparing to lay waste to what’s left of mankind!” Arthur’s eyes had diverted to Danse somewhere along the way, but when he finished speaking, he must have realized his mistake – or was it an intentional analogy? – because he flicked his gaze back to her.

Nora was fuming.

“Are you fucking serious, Arthur?” she snarled. “You’re comparing Danse to a _nuclear fucking bomb!?_ That’s the analogy you want to use?” 

Maxson tipped his chin up. “This machine might not be a bomb, but its goal is exactly the same.” Apparently, ‘trusting a machine that thought it was alive’ was dangerous because everything was ‘manufactured.’ Which was a load of bullshit, because she’d seen Danse feel. She’d seen him have emotions – she’d seen him have more emotions than Arthur fucking Maxson.

How long had the Institute been making 3rd generation synths? How many had she even met along her travels and, more importantly – how many had _Arthur_ met along on _his_ travels without even knowing it? How many had he been friendly with? How many had he worked with? How many had he _fucked?_ Maybe if he knew he’d stuck his dick in a synth he’d have more empathy for them.

Then again, maybe not.

“I don’t intend to debate this any longer. My orders stand.”

“It’s alright,” Danse said quietly, his silky-smooth baritone voice coming from her right and trying to soothe her as her jaw clenched and unclenched again. She was getting a fucking headache. “We did our best. You’ve been a great soldier and a hell of a friend, Parker. I couldn’t have asked for better. Whatever you decide, know that I’m going to my grave with no anger and no regrets.”

She refused to look at Danse yet, instead her eyes staying on Arthur as he stared back at her. “Danse has saved the lives of countless soldiers, and yet you’re completely disregarding that because of your hatred.”

“Danse was merely following the rules set up in its programming: to mimic a Brotherhood soldier. A real soldier’s bravery comes from within – from his heart and his soul.”

Wait, he was serious, wasn’t he? _’From his heart and his soul’?_ Fuck.

Nora couldn’t help but release a scoffing laugh. “Arthur, what are you talking about? You don’t believe in the human soul – you need to believe in a god for that.” She saw him slightly purse his lips when he was called on his bullshit. “You are un-fucking-believable.”

But her eyes turned to her paladin as her brows furrowed and she studied his face while she thought. There had to be a way out of this – there just had to be.

“Parker, this needs to be resolved. Now,” the Elder hissed.

And then it clicked.

“Why did you send me, Arthur?” she asked, her eyes scanning Danse’s face for a moment longer as he stared back at her in confusion before she finally turned her gaze to her lover. Maxson was quiet at first and she could almost see the cogs turning in his head as if he was trying to come up with an excuse – any excuse – as to why he sent her instead of someone else.

Nora slipped her rifle off her back and dropped it onto the ground before she started approaching him; her movements were slow but in a cautious way, as if she was making sure he knew she wouldn’t try anything. “Why did you send me to execute Danse if you knew I wouldn’t do it?”

“… I wanted you to prove your loyalty to me.”

Arthur was a good liar, she knew that; he was excellent with twisting and weaving words and spewing falsities from his mouth – but the slight hesitation in his answer in an attempt to come up with something, even though it was only half a second, gave him away.

Maybe his hesitation was because of her – maybe it was because she was denying him access to her emotions. Nora’s eyes were red from crying, sure, and her face was wet from tears having fallen down her flushed cheeks not too long ago, but other than that, she tried to keep the emotion from her face. It wasn’t something she did to him often, and she knew it was unfair because he had trouble telling what others were feeling when it wasn’t plain as day in their expressions, but hiding her current emotions from him would make him pay more attention and make him falter.

And she wanted him to falter.

Besides, he could have easily guessed her blood was flowing with rage.

“You already know I’m loyal to you, Arthur, so don’t lie to me.” His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her face, searching and searching and searching, even as she was finally in front of him and came to a stop. “So, I ask again: why did you send me, your pregnant girlfriend, to hunt down and execute a ‘dangerous synth’ who you knew I wouldn’t kill, but you’d made clear he was dangerous to be around?”

His jaw tensed, but he never gave her an answer – at least not a verbal one; his lack of words, however, was as much of an answer as if he’d written her an entire ten-page essay. Nora could only shake her head with a slight scoff through her nose, making sure the only thing he could finally read on her face was pure fucking disappointment.

“Yeah, I figured,” she said quietly, her voice too low for Danse to hear. “I’m not going to beg you to spare him just so you can make yourself look merciful and distant, Arthur. He’s your best friend, too.” The Elder’s breathing was slightly shaky, but he was trying to hold the exhales in, though that only made it worse.

“Show him you care and that you don’t want him dead rather than letting him think he’s only alive because you did it for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote two kinktober prompts thus far based on Arthur and Nora (from this fic).
> 
> The first one is about breathplay/asphyxiation, so please be aware of that before you click the link. That one can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961356)
> 
> The second one is anal (whew) and can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20984783)


	68. Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this was what grounded them both just as it had from the beginning – Arthur hurting her as she encouraged it and egged him on; and not just during sex, but within their entire relationship. It was almost like everything they were was based on pain and an unhealthiness they couldn’t escape, but instead they embraced it and embedded it into who they were not just as a couple, but as _people_ overall. He was nothing without her and he was starting to suspect she was nothing without him.
> 
> They’d ruined each other, or perhaps _he’d_ ruined them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is intended to be very uncomfortable and rough so please be aware of that. 
> 
> CW: self-harm, dubious consent

They’d been back on the Prydwen for less than an hour by the time Nora threw herself at him, all teeth and tongue and claws, pushing his coat off his shoulders and tearing at his flight suit. It was unexpected and caught him off guard, to say the least, which made it easy for her to shove him against the closed door before he even knew what hit him, whereas he never would have budged if it were any other time. Really, just the mere _thought_ of this tiny vault dweller having some sort of physical power over him was laughable, and yet here she was, pressed against him, her teeth tugging his bottom lip and her nails digging into the back of his neck as she forcefully pulled him down to her level to correct the height difference between them.

While Arthur definitely enjoyed it when she fought him during sex, this was unlike her. She wasn’t kissing him with the same passion she’d had since the very first time their lips touched – the same passion that only grew and grew and grew until it expanded into something far greater than he understood – but instead she was kissing him with the ferocity of a woman who had a single goal and cared for nothing else until that goal was achieved. Yet, he still kissed back, still let her tear at his clothes, and still tore at hers in return – or tried to, rather. She didn’t let him, instead shoving his hands away with a warning glare as she undressed herself, quickly and efficiently, until they were both naked.

His control over the situation was already weak by the time they’d even entered the room and it was continuing to wane, barely hanging on by a thread that was threatening to snap at any moment. He tried to regain some of it – any of it – by stepping forward and grabbing her around the waist to pull their bodies flush, but she fought back again – and she fought back _hard._ It wasn’t anything particularly new within their relationship; they’d fucked like this plenty of times before where she fought him and he overpowered her, and so when he bent her over the table, forcing her torso to roughly collide with the wood with a loud _thud,_ he expected her to struggle to some extent but ultimately accept that he’d won because she had no real way out from her position.

She would submit because she wanted to be fucked roughly – she wanted him to pound into her, fuck her numb; wanted him to make her keen until she didn’t have a voice anymore. That was something he could do and do well.

But the elbow that collided with the center of his chest when her upper body twisted made him second guess his assumptions as he was sent stumbling back a few steps, gasping for air, once again caught off guard. She’d never struck him in such a manner before – sure, she’d scratched and slapped and grabbed, but never had she _elbowed_ him, and especially not in his chest in a spot that left him fucking _wheezing._

Fuck, he could almost hear Star Paladin Cross’ voice ringing in his ears, a lost echo through time – _’Remember your three Cs, Maxson: cranium, crotch, and center mass.’_

But before he even realized it, Nora had shoved him onto the bed on his back and was straddling his hips. Arthur still had a hand to his chest, fingers splayed, as he attempted to catch his breath by breathing slow, deep inhales, but Nora didn’t wait for him. Instead, she lifted herself to her knees above his groin and reached down between their bodies to grab his cock, stroking to get him hard again since he’d gone soft when he’d lost the ability to fucking breathe – all while holding his gaze.

There was something about the look in her eyes – it wasn’t one of love or lust or hunger, it was one of pure rage; rage and _pain._ Pure, frozen hellfire that was more dangerous than anything the wasteland could cook up. His vault dweller was angry, and he was at fault; he’d hurt her – used her – and now she was seeking release likely without the care of whether he’d found it himself.

He could not blame her.

Nora sank down on him with a hiss of air inhaled through her teeth and his hands instinctually found her hips, fingers gripping the tender skin he’d learned just as well as any map; but she was quick to grab his wrists and shove them away from her as if he was something disgusting and unworthy, as if she wanted to touch as little of him as possible – his cock and his hips, because that was all that was necessary to get her off.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarled.

The Elder held his palms up, facing her, in an almost defeated fashion. “Okay,” he said quietly, breathlessly; but he was unsure what to do with them at that point. Did he leave them where they were – up and in view? Did he place them on the bed? He wanted to touch her – he _needed_ to touch her. She was the only thing that grounded him in this fucking wasteland anymore, especially after… after what happened.

He needed her.

But she was angry and didn’t care, and he could not blame her.

Nora was riding him, having started off slow at first but quickly picking up until her hips were aggressively shifting back and forth, movements less fluid and more eager and desperate in this position than he’d ever seen her before. He expected her to still be holding his gaze, but she’d tightly shut her eyes instead, head tipped down while her hands were on his ribs, wrists turned inward and fingers crooked so her nails dug into the sensitive skin. Arthur wanted to grab her and flip them over just so he could fuck her into the mattress, hear her scream his name and announce to him and everyone else aboard the goddamn ship that she was still there, with him – because she wasn’t. His vault dweller was somewhere else, just like she was the night he’d tried to apologize when she’d not wanted it, instead egging him on to fuck her and get it over with.

But now, _she_ was fucking _him_ and still, she wasn’t there. Though her eyes were closed, he knew if they were open they’d have that distant look in them as her mind was in another location – perhaps another dimension – while her hips were on autopilot and her body sought a release that she might not even be able to receive.

Arthur’s hands found the sheets beneath him and he grabbed fistfuls, clenching them into his palms, trying to find something – _anything_ – he could use to ground himself with because she wouldn’t let him use her to do so.

Though, as she rode him hard while her mind was still elsewhere, he wished he could reach out to her, touch her, if not to ground _himself_ then to ground _her_ – to wrap his fingers around her tender throat and bring her back to him; to claim her attention and demand she be in the here and now, stuck with him, even if it meant she was angry. Because even if Nora was enraged with him, she was still beautiful, and she was still _there._

But Nora would not even grant him that.

And he could not blame her.

The only other time he’d allowed her to do something even remotely similar to this was after he’d scared her enough that she’d used their safe word, and even then, he hadn’t actually let her have any real control – she’d just _thought_ she’d had some until he’d clarified the dynamics of their relationship after the fact, telling her to never try it again. But now? Now, as she rode him with no real rhythm to her movements without letting him touch her while she wasn’t even mentally sticking around for it all, she had control; Nora had not only taken his control, but she’d ripped it from his fucking throat and left his jugular exposed and gushing. He could have easily taken it back, sure – he was much bigger, much stronger, and could overpower her in any situation, but… well, his jugular would still be torn open, wouldn’t it?

Fuck.

It was uncomfortable. But it wasn’t that he wasn’t receiving pleasure from this, because he was – his dick was hard and the woman he loved was riding him like it was going out of style – but not having control was such an uncomfortable feeling for him that it almost made him panic.

And when her hand found his throat, those delicate fingers wrapping around the column and making his head tip back just slightly, he nearly bucked her off and bolted. The vaultie was back now, her eyes open and staring down at him with a burning rage, and that was when she must have realized she had _full_ control of the situation and not only part of it. She didn’t squeeze his throat or try to choke him, just kept her hand there with the webbing between her thumb and index finger pressed right along his beard line as they kept eye contact.

But he panicked.

It wasn’t the same type of panic he’d felt the night she’d asked him if he loved her, right after he’d finished coming and she’d caught him off guard – she had a tendency of doing that – and he’d said ‘yes,’ only to panic at how sudden the question was and how he’d not even gotten the chance to _think._ And it also wasn’t the same sort of panic when he’d thought he’d lost her, knowing he’d fucked up so many times, over and over and over again. Nor was it similar to the panic he’d felt when he’d faced the mother deathclaw that gifted him the deep scar on his face that caused nerve damage and gave him a lopsided smile.

No, it was closer to the panic he’d felt when she’d barged into his life and he’d lost every semblance of control; how he’d known he’d lost the moment she’d stepped into the fucking room.

The Elder could feel his heart pounding in his chest, no longer that steady kickdrum but instead a rapid beat that made him think it might explode; his breathing was already heavy from what they were doing despite him not really even exerting himself, but now it was increasing even more. He had to calm himself. He needed to calm himself. The world was speeding up and he was going to crash and burn and take Nora with him if he didn’t calm the fuck down.

She released his throat and, finally, the world slowed down a little.

_Better._

“Nora—”

“Shut the fuck up, Arthur.”

He clenched his jaw and tightly closed his eyes, trying to convince himself to relax because the tension he was feeling was bound to make everything worse again – but when he felt her hips raise up, he opened his eyes, following her gaze down, down, down to where she was looking between them—

He’d gone soft.

Fuck.

“You can’t even keep your dick hard?”

The sheets were clenched harder in his fists. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“What? You feeling guilty? Your conscience getting to your cock?”

Breathe in.

“That’s a first.”

Arthur didn’t want to be here – not in this situation. He wanted to be with _her,_ but not like _this._ He’d fucked up so badly that she’d just stopped caring, was only doing this to hurt him; she knew all the locations of each gap in his armor, all the nooks and crannies that revealed each and every weak spot he had, and she was taking the thinnest, sharpest blade she could find just to slice right into them in hopes of piercing vital organs.

She was succeeding.

He could not blame her for it.

Before either of them knew it, Nora was on her stomach while he was atop her, straddling her thighs just beneath her ass. One hand was placed between her shoulder blades, holding her down and holding him up, while the other was on his cock, stroking to get himself hard again. 

“Yeah, that’s it, _daddy.”_ The word was mocking but he couldn’t care less at this point; he’d give her what she wanted so this could be over with. “Fuck me hard. Fuck me so it hurts.”

Her words should have been a red flag – fuck, _all_ of this should have been a red flag – but they were both so far gone at this point, neither of them could back out now. 

Maxson shifted so he could push her legs open a bit, giving him easier access to what was between them. And after a few moments of guiding and prodding – including her taunting him with things like _’what, can’t find the hole?’_ just to piss him off – he found where he needed to be and immediately shoved in. Nora nearly screamed when he bottomed out, his knee pushing her legs tightly closed again as he went back to straddling her thighs, just below her ass; and the fact her legs were closed meant she felt so much tighter than she actually was. He didn’t doubt she felt the difference, too.

The hand between her shoulder blades slid down her spine and back up as he remained still, trying to give her a moment to relax, but she shot him a glare over her shoulder. “C’mon, Arthur. Fuck me.”

Fine.

His hand was back between her shoulder blades, pushing her down hard into the mattress as he pulled his hips back and slammed them forward, watching as her face scrunched up and her jaw tensed while she released a noise that he knew was not one of pleasure. He hesitated, his eyes scanning the side of her face. This was wrong – it was fucking _wrong._

“Do it,” she growled. The action was repeated, and then again and again and again, and he watched her face, telling himself _this_ was what she wanted – she wanted to hurt. And after everything he’d done to her, he owed it to her to give her what she wanted; and so eventually, Arthur found himself leaning forward with one hand on the bed and the other still on her back as he took her roughly.

Neither of them enjoyed it.

Perhaps this was what grounded them both just as it had from the beginning – Arthur hurting her as she encouraged it and egged him on; and not just during sex, but within their entire relationship. It was almost like everything they were was based on pain and an unhealthiness they couldn’t escape, but instead they embraced it and embedded it into who they were not just as a couple, but as _people_ overall. He was nothing without her and he was starting to suspect she was nothing without him.

They’d ruined each other, or perhaps _he’d_ ruined them both.

“Harder,” she grunted when she deemed the pain that he was giving her was insufficient. “C’mon, daddy, fuck me harder.”

The hand between her shoulder blades was suddenly on the side of her face, fingers slightly crooked and digging in as he pressed her head further into the mattress with some of his weight. “Shut up,” he growled through clenched teeth, but he gave her what she wanted, nonetheless, as his hips clapped against her ass while he fucked her harder, though he tried to drown out the noises she was making beneath him.

Arthur tried not to watch her face because it was too fucking painful, knowing she’d be there one second and gone the next; how she didn’t even want to be there with him despite the fact she was the one who’d initiated this uncomfortable situation and had begged him to fuck her like this and hurt her.

Then again, even _he_ didn’t want to be here.

He could not blame her.

It took him longer than usual to cum since he couldn’t focus, though he knew she’d feel every minute of it; but the moment he came, his hips pushed flush against her ass and he removed his hand from her face, both palms pressed to the mattress on either side of her as he held himself up and tried to catch his breath. She was panting beneath him, but it only took a few moments after he’d stilled for her to speak again.

“Get off.”

“What—”

“I said get off.”

He pulled out and away, trying to ignore the pained noise she made as his cock slipped free from her and instead moving to sit on the bed with his back against the wall. Nora laid there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and undoubtedly still trying to fully come back from wherever she’d mentally escaped to. Her ass and the very tops of the backs of her thighs were fairly red from how hard he’d been slamming his hips against her, and there was a red handprint between her shoulder blades, as well as one on the side of her face though it was less defined. He tried to see what other damage he’d done to her, but there didn’t appear to be anything else visible – at least not physically. Then again, he couldn’t see what pain he’d caused between her legs.

“Nora—”

“Don’t.”

The Elder clenched his jaw and fell silent again. Once she finally moved, however, her motions were slow and careful as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, then slowly climbed off the bed and gradually went toward the bathroom. He watched her, seeing how his cum was leaking down the inside of her thighs, taunting him, telling him he’d fucked up so badly and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could do to fix it – not even the child he’d helped create that was currently in her womb would repair the damage he’d done.

At this point, he didn’t really know what to do, and instead just watched as Nora disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door all the way; he took it as a sign she didn’t want him to join her and would see it as an invasion of her privacy if he did, so instead he just sat there, left to his own thoughts.

The reality of the situation suddenly hit him all at once rather than in the bits and pieces it had thus far and he immediately wished he had allowed the sea to swallow him whole the night he’d taken her to the beach, sacrificing himself to its depths instead of getting to the point where he felt the wave of reality wash over him like a blanket of dread and horror—

She was enraged at him and for good reason. After everything he’d done to her, especially today – but not _just_ today – it wouldn’t be a surprise if she left him; if she just took her things and bolted. He’d track her down, of course, because Arthur was nothing if not possessive; try to make her see reason, beg her to come back to him because, at this point, he knew he’d go to whatever lengths necessary just to keep her in his life – to keep her safe.

When he’d told her that he’d burn the entire Commonwealth to the ground to keep her safe, he’d meant it – and when he knew the only place that she’d actually be safe was with him, Arthur would follow through with his promise. He’d level the entire fucking map to bring her home.

But he also knew that if she left, she’d not want to come back; she’d abandon ship and he’d likely be unable to do a damn thing about it.

And he would not blame her for it.

He’d used her – used her as a means to find Danse because he could not to it himself; used her as a way to ‘convince’ him to spare his best friend’s life when he had no real intention of taking it in the first place. But Nora was smart, and he often made the mistake of underestimating her, so when she figured his plan out, he was… caught off guard. Again. And it was thrown right in his face.

She’d realized he’d used her and so she tried to use him return – originally tried to use his body as a way of release without caring whether he found his own in return and probably even _hoping_ he didn’t as a way to show how angry she was; but eventually, when she realized her body would not grant her an orgasm, she taunted him until he pinned her down and took her roughly, hurting her just as she wanted. In the end, she used his body as a way to ground herself even when she checked out in the middle.

Arthur had been used as a way of release in the past without any other strings attached, so that wasn’t something new to him, but it was new when it came to be happening with _Nora._ Even in the beginning of their relationship, it was never truly no-strings-attached, and so they were never really just using one another for sex like they’d originally intended – there was always _something_ there.

But this time? He only saw anger in her eyes. No love, no lust, nothing – just pure anger.

And _hurt._

It was exactly like the night when she’d asked him to hurt her the first time though he hadn’t given in, instead taking her gently and making her cum before he held her for hours. This time, however, it was worse.

But Arthur couldn’t decide if her using him hurt.

Whether or not it did wasn’t even the biggest issue, though; the biggest issue was how he’d tried to convince the woman he loved to kill his best friend – _her_ best friend – knowing she wouldn’t go through with it and would instead beg him to spare the man, which he’d agree to because that was the goal all along.

Fuck. What was he thinking? It would have been so easy to just tell her he didn’t want to kill Danse but just wanted to _talk;_ that he knew the paladin wasn’t a threat to her; that he’d just wanted to figure out what the fuck was happening; but instead… he’d told her to hunt her best friend down and execute him.

And now, Arthur had not only lost _his_ best friend, exiling him from the very organization they’d both dedicated their lives to, but he may very well have also lost the woman he loved – the woman who meant more to him than anything else in this fucking wasteland.

Maxson was an idiot.

He was a monster for doing what he did.

 _”Why would you send her? You could have sent anyone, but you sent_ her. _Are you trying to break her? Destroy her?”_

The Elder was ashamed; he felt guilty. He knew where he went wrong and knew he shouldn’t have gone down that route – or any of those routes, really – and should have instead confronted Danse on his own and taken it from there, not manipulated his pregnant girlfriend into doing his fucking dirty work by ordering her to do something she would have left him over if it had actually happened.

_”I told you that you needed to start taking responsibility for what you were doing, Arthur. If you wanted me dead, you should have come to do it yourself or sent someone else – not Nora, of all people.”_

_”I don’t want you dead, Danse.”_

_”Then why are you trying to convince her to kill me?”_

_”I… knew she wouldn’t. I needed her to track you down because she could find you the fastest, and I wanted her to ask to spare your life so I could grant it.”_

He’d fucked up so bad. Disappointment was something he knew better than anything – disappointment in himself, disappointment from others; he never stopped fucking up long enough to clear any of it away before more came at him. Today was no different, and neither would be tomorrow.

_”So, you manipulated her because you were too much of a coward to spare me with your own words?”_

_”Yeah, I guess so.”_

But disappointing Nora was something he never wanted to do; and yet, he’d perfected the act by doing it enough times. What was another disappointed face on a wall of disappointed faces?

_”So, what now?”_

_”You can’t come back.”_

_”I know that. I meant am I walking out of here?”_

_”Yes. But you’ll be dead to the Brotherhood. Kells released the information that you were a synth the moment the meeting ended and if they find out you’re still alive, especially after I sent Nora…”_

_”I understand.”_

The man who’d been his best friend since he was – what, fourteen? – was no longer part of his life. Nora may get the chance to see him again, at least for a while, but Arthur? Arthur did not, nor did he even think he’d be welcomed. After what he’d done, he’d likely lost everything except the Brotherhood.

_”Nora wants me to go to Sanctuary for a few days before I leave the Commonwealth. There aren’t many vertibirds over that way so I should be out of sight until I’m ready to leave.”_

_”That’s good. I can keep any scouting parties away from there for as long as you stick around.”_

The nudge to his side startled him and he recoiled, eyes darting to see what had touched his bare skin before realizing it was a foot – Nora’s foot. She stood above him as he sat on the floor – when had he even _gotten_ on the floor? – with his back leaned against the side of the bed, legs to his chest, and elbows on his knees with his head in his hands.

“Get up. It’s time for bed,” she said flatly. There was no spite in her tone but also no affection, and her facial expression was blank – she was blocking him out again, like she’d done earlier.

He could not blame her.

The vaultie’s skin was a dark pink, but it couldn’t have been from hot water because the Prydwen didn’t get hot water, only lukewarm; and there were some areas – mainly on the underside of her forearms – that had dark red lines along the skin. There was no blood and the skin looked intact from what he could see, but he knew what she’d done.

And she knew he’d seen the marks, too.

Yet, Nora didn’t wait for him to get up before she climbed onto the bed and laid in her usual spot, close to the wall and facing it. Arthur slowly pulled himself to his feet before climbing in after her, laying down behind her body like he normally would, but… he hesitated before getting any closer. Was he allowed to touch her? He’d never been this timid before, not even when he’d terrified her – he’d always found ways around it, ways to calm her down and regain control of the situation, as well as her trust. But now? Now, he was trying not to touch this fragile relationship before him, knowing piece after piece after piece had already chipped off, leaving just the barest of shards that threatened to crumble into dust if he made the wrong move or said the wrong word.

He fucked up.

Arthur was so afraid they’d run their course after today and that he’d wake up with a cold bed and empty dresser drawers, the rock missing from his table and the only proof she’d even existed as his lover being the chess piece that sat on his desk.

But he could not blame her if she left.

When he didn’t wrap around her at first, but instead just laid on his side, his torso held up by his elbow, he expected her to question him or invite him closer – but instead, she remained silent. Fuck, was she waiting for _him?_ Was this a _test?_

“… Can I—”

“Yeah.”

He let out a slow breath of relief before scooting close behind her, pressing his front against her back and wrapping his arms around her just like he always did; but maybe this time it was a little tighter than usual. He wanted to make sure that if she left in the middle of the night, he’d at least wake up and know she was leaving him, that he’d get the chance to change her mind.

And if she didn’t try to leave, he’d at least know she was there the whole time.

But maybe he’d blame her if she stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will be better, I promise.


	69. PTSD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Arthur?” His breath hitched in his throat when he heard Nora’s voice and he immediately turned his head to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom in just a towel, confusion and worry and fear washed over her face. “Arthur, what—what are you doing? What’s going on?”
> 
> No, no, no, no. This was all wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not as light as I initially intended but still not as heavy as last chapter.

His chest was heaving as he laid there in the dark, covered in sweat, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling; even the suddenness of his gasping inhale when he jolted awake hadn’t made him feel like he could breathe any better.

Another night terror?

It was strange, though – he couldn’t remember this one when he usually had very vivid memories of them, especially when he was—

_Bzzt bzzt bzzt bzzt._

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the alarm buzzing and, for a second, he almost resented the scribe who’d gifted it to him after fixing up the piece of prewar technology. With a few slaps of his palm against the nightstand, he managed to reach his mark and turn it off, silence filling the air aside from his heavy breathing.

But nothing else.

Not even _her_ breathing.

Only then did he realize he was sprawled in the middle of the bed, sleeping in the comfort of both his and Nora’s spaces while she was absent.

She was gone.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

The Elder remembered curling around her last night much tighter than usual, specifically to feel if she got up to leave, and yet she’d still slipped away from him unnoticed, without him even stirring. Did his body not want him to wake? Did his mind want him to let her go? She deserved better, he knew this, but he could have at least told her _goodbye._

Fuck.

The temptation to lie there and ignore the fact it was 0600 was threatening to win him over if he didn’t get up now, or at least do something other than let his mind stick to Nora and Nora only, how he’d fucked up and scared her off, how he’d hurt her so many times – especially last night, where he’d literally _hurt her._ He needed to do something else, needed to get up and _move;_ or, fuck, at least touch himself to get his attention elsewhere. His cock was semi-hard and partially resting in the crook of his right leg and hip, and he knew if he got himself off that he might be able to relieve some of the tension he was building up. Shit, it felt like he hadn’t cum for _days,_ anyway, but he knew that wasn’t true because he’d literally cum last night.

Shower it was.

His motivation was nearly non-existent and so he was gradually pushing himself to stand up, turning on the light as he went to the dresser to pull out a clean jumpsuit, underwear, and undershirt – but the second he turned toward the bathroom, something registered in his brain. He froze in his steps, eyebrows crinkling as his heart nearly sank in his chest while he tried to comprehend if he was sure what he saw was actually there. And when he turned around to check, the confirmation made his chest ache like never before.

The rock still sat on his table, never having moved since the moment Nora had placed it there. Had she forgotten to take it with her? No, that couldn’t be the case – she would have taken that before anything else, so he didn’t even need to look in the dresser drawers he’d cleaned his things out of to know they weren’t empty and that she’d not only abandoned ship but she’d also abandoned _things,_ too.

Gritting his teeth, the Elder turned back around and went into the bathroom, quickly getting into the shower. The water, although lukewarm, would still help him relax and help his muscles untense to some degree; and the first thing he did when getting in was duck his head beneath the stream, letting the water split between running down his front and back. His hair was soaked and parted somewhere in the middle of the cut, sending a good portion of it into his face while he had his head tipped down, lips slightly open as he took in deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm.

Everything was fucked.

But unexpected hands on his sides sent him into a panic, and before he could even stop himself, he’d spun around and grabbed the offending wrists, holding them in one hand’s grip while the other had clutched the offender’s face, thumb and fingers digging into cheeks—

“Arthur.”

Two royal blue eyes settled on him, but they weren’t filled with fear or rage or pain – there was no more of that frozen hellfire burning in her irises – just a calm understanding that he knew he didn’t deserve.

“Nora.”

He didn’t release her, he couldn’t; he was afraid if he released her that he’d wake up and that _this_ would be a dream – that his mind would be taunting him with thoughts and images of the woman who’d left him in the middle of the night, tricking him into thinking he was worthy of her love, her trust, after everything he’d done to her. After what he’d done yesterday – last night.

She tugged her hands free, but he didn’t stop her, one of them moving up to his face and brushing his wet hair back, clearing his view. She ran her fingers through it a few times, nails just gently scratching his scalp in a way that almost always made him purr, and he found himself reaching down to hook his hands around the back of her thighs, hoisting her legs up around his waist and pinning her body between his own and the wall.

And then he just… held her there. One hand remained on the back of her thigh while the other had fingers tangled into her hair, his face turned to press into the side of her own while he breathed her in. She was real. She was here.

She hadn’t left.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Please don’t leave me. I need you.”

Fuck, he sounded weak; but at this point, he didn’t even care – Arthur was nothing without her. Before she’d entered his life, he was just an empty husk the Brotherhood used to do their bidding and he’d follow through with orders because that was what he was raised to do. His emotions had been turned off long ago and he was completely fine with living his life this way – until she came into it. Slowly but surely, she filled that husk with a man who began to learn who he was as a person and not just a soldier controlled by a giant military organization. She helped him.

And maybe Arthur had a hunch about how much of an effect she’d have on him because he knew he’d lost the moment she’d stepped aboard his ship. 

“I’m not going anywhere. What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer – he couldn’t. Hell, what would he even say? That he was afraid he’d scared her off after last night? After what he’d done? After what he’d made her do? After how he’d hurt her? He _wanted_ to say the words but they all got stuck in his throat. Yet, when those soft hands gently guided his face away from hers, pushing him back just enough that she could cup his cheeks and look him in the eyes, he nearly broke.

“Baby,” she whispered; there was so much worry on her face. “Talk to me. Did you have another night terror?”

Nora had never brought his night terrors up before, granting him that small mercy, though he knew she was aware of them. He’d only had them around her during that very first night she’d slept in his bed, but after that, he’d not had any whenever they were together, only finding that they haunted his sleep whenever she wasn’t in his arms. And while he knew he couldn’t help the fact he had them, nor were they his fault since they were carried over from childhood trauma, they still made him feel ashamed.

So, when she asked if he had another one, his immediate reaction was shame and he tried to pull away. But Nora never let him close down anymore.

“No, no, no,” she protested quietly, her legs tightening around his hips and hands squeezing his cheeks a bit more. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I had night terrors for a long time, too. Still do sometimes.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his temple, and then those kisses were pressed all over his face, as if she was kissing his pain away. All he could do was close his eyes and take it.

They’d never really told one another about their pasts; they knew basic things, mostly, but stuck to the here and now. He knew nothing of her past trauma, not really; and while she knew he was made into a soldier as a child, she didn’t know the specifics of what that entailed.

One of her hands ran through his hair again, slicking it back against his scalp. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t remember it.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, leaning in to kiss him. It only lasted a second and their foreheads were pressed together after. “How can I help?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?” Leave it to Nora to try to make an uncomfortable situation into something ridiculous or uncomfortable in a different way with humor. It made him smile, regardless, and he just shook his head slightly, nearly rolling his eyes as she grinned.

“I have to get to work.”

“Your loss.”

══════════════════

He was running late, as expected, because Nora always got her way – but at least he was feeling a little better. She didn’t hate him, strangely enough, though he definitely didn’t deserve her; and she never even brought up Danse nor did she show a sign of being mad at him for anything that happened yesterday. It made no sense to him though he tried not to question it too much.

Maybe she was over it?

No, that couldn’t be the case.

The Elder exited his quarters, running his hand through his damp hair before he shut the bulkhead behind him; he figured he’d grab something to eat, or at least a cup of coffee, before heading up to meet with Kells and start his workday. It was going to be a long one, that was for certain. But before he even got two steps away from his door, his eyes landed on _him._

_It._

No.

He shouldn’t be here.

Why the fuck was he here?

There was no one else in the immediate area, so they were alone, and Arthur took the few steps forward to grab the other man by the upper arm and yank him backward, straight back into his quarters – where Nora was still in the shower. The door was shut behind them and he immediately spun around, pinning the larger body to the door with a forearm to the chest.

 _”What are you doing here!?”_ he hissed.

Brown eyes stared back at him with confusion, searching Arthur’s face for an answer, but the Elder didn’t receive one to his own question.

“Answer me!” he snarled.

“I… live here?” That smooth baritone voice nearly sent him for a loop and he just stared at Danse, confused, unsure what the fuck was even happening. He’d _banished_ the paladin – _ex_ -paladin – from the Brotherhood just fucking yesterday, so what did he even _mean_ he fucking lived here?

This was wrong. It was fucking wrong.

Arthur lifted his leg just enough to grab the knife from his boot and it was immediately against Danse’s throat; the older man lifted his chin a bit, as well as his hands, palms out, showing he wasn’t going to try anything.

“Arthur, relax. It’s me.”

“I _exiled_ you yesterday. You can’t be here. If they know you’re not dead, they’ll—”

“Arthur?” His breath hitched in his throat when he heard Nora’s voice and he immediately turned his head to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom in just a towel, confusion and worry and fear washed over her face. “Arthur, what—what are you doing? What’s going on?”

No, no, no, no. This was all wrong.

This wasn’t making any fucking sense but it _was_ successfully making him panic, though the moment his guard began to slip, Danse took the opportunity to swap their positions – Arthur’s chest was slammed against the bulkhead, arms pinned behind him against his lower back while Danse had a forearm on his upper back, the knife having clattered on the floor. Nora was quick to pick it up, but she still kept a distance.

“You need to leave,” the Elder hissed, struggling against Danse’s hold. “They’ll kill her if they find out you’re still alive.”

“You need to calm down, Maxson. You’re not making any sense.”

This had to be a dream or some part of a nightmare that was inside another nightmare. That was the only explanation, right? His mind must be guilting him into something, telling him how bad he felt about what he’d done, and now he was trying to correct it in his dreams or… something. That had to be it.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Nora asked. Her voice was so soft and caring and it brought his eyes to her, helping him focus.

“We had sex last night.”

Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked to Danse before returning her gaze to him. “Before that?”

His jaw tensed. Why was she making him say it? “We found out Danse was a synth after Ingram decrypted the holodisk. He abandoned his armor at the storage facility and was missing for a week and I—” he stopped, closing his eyes and turning his face more toward the door as if that would hide his shame, “—I sent you to execute him in hopes you would convince me to spare him so I would grant your request.”

The room grew quiet for what felt like hours; he could hear his own heartbeat. And then—

“Let him go.”

“Parker, I don’t think—”

“It’s okay. Let him go.”

Danse hesitated but released Arthur, stepping back from the Elder as he did. A sigh came from the younger man, but he remained near the door, though he turned to face Nora after shooting a glare at the paladin.

“Arthur,” Nora started, and he turned his full attention to her. “I’ve been gone the past two days. I had to go to the castle because Preston needed help with some of the new recruits; and Danse has been here since yesterday morning.”

That didn’t make any sense – none whatsoever. Arthur stared at her, shaking his head just slightly as he tried to figure out exactly where his timeline messed up. “Has… Ingram decrypted the holodisk?”

“Yeah.”

“And…?”

“Danse’s name wasn’t on there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

No, this was wrong. Something was wrong. Was he going fucking crazy? His arms raised and hands went to his head. “No, no, no. This was real. I felt it. I felt everything. I felt it when I hurt you, when I—”

“Danse, do you mind?” Nora’s voice was still quiet, so soft compared to his own panicked one and compared to the paladin’s tumbling thunder as he made a noise of acknowledgement. Arthur moved away from the door, allowing the other man to leave – and instead went to sit on the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. She was by him almost immediately, taking a seat next to him but not touching. Maybe she knew better.

They were quiet for a minute or so before Arthur’s head dropped into his hands again and she took the initiative to speak.

“You know, when Nate got back from his final tour in Alaska, he was different. He’d been struggling with the horrors of war, like every soldier does, but his final tour was the worst." She shifted on the bed but still didn’t touch him; he wasn’t sure if that was her granting him mercy or not. “He never told me what he saw, but for the first year after he came home, he woke up almost every night screaming about the Reds and about his old squad. It eventually extended beyond that, though, to where I was being included in his dreams even though I was never part of the war. In some of them, he saw me fighting beside him; in others, he saw me fighting against him. But in the end, his night terrors always haunted him. And many of them felt as real as anything else.”

Arthur let it soak in, listening to how her late husband suffered from a similar plague due to the war effort from over two hundred years ago. While what he experienced wasn’t the same as Nate, he knew it was similar in a way – both of them were soldiers. Besides, he didn’t know what other traumas Nate had went through beforehand.

“Did they ever stop?” he asked quietly.

“No.” Her answer was honest, and it fucking hurt, but he was glad she didn’t lie. “His trauma haunted him until his death, but it did get easier the more he let someone in and the more he sought help.” Her hand was gently placed on his arm and he lifted his head to look at her, but she pushed her way into his lap, forcing him to sit back a little; his arms went around her waist to hold her up as she straddled him, hands cupping his jaw once again. “You are not alone in this. I will always be here. You’re stuck with me and, like it or not, you’re also stuck with Danse. Okay?”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blind betrayal did not fit in my fic so I fixed it. you're welcome.
> 
> ~~now nicah can’t kill me~~
> 
> also, chapter 69 (nice) should have been smut but damnit it didn’t turn out that way so I’ll have to make it up to y’all soon.
> 
> also also, I have been informed the word "jowls" is extremely unsexy and too clinical and have been told to stop fucking using it because it immediately makes someone think of an old person's saggy face (not my words), so you can all thank gaqalesqua for this improvement in my writing.


	70. Lighthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just so you know, I’m touching your butt today. I’ve waited long enough.”

It was a frustrating morning, to say the least. Nora had managed to calm him down and remind him of the events that had happened over the past week; it wasn’t that he’d forgotten, but more that his brain had chosen to believe what happened in his night terror was real rather than actual reality itself.

And with the discussion they had following the events after he’d woken up, a sense of relief and clarity washed over him.

Danse was not a synth known as M7-97 and his name had not appeared on the holodisk Ingram decrypted that contained information from the Institute. He hadn’t made it to the storage facility within the two-day time period and instead had stopped responding over his comms unit while the tracker on his power armor clocked him somewhere in the Glowing Sea, not near where the bunker was expected to be located but not terribly far from it, either. And when his tracker hadn’t moved for so long, Arthur sent in a team to figure out what had happened.

The only thing the team found, however, was a dead matriarch deathclaw and a suit of mangled power armor with too much blood on the inside. The Elder hadn’t told Nora about the discovery because he knew she’d panic and would want to go find Danse herself – she’d likely call for her companions to meet her somewhere so they could go search on their own – but the last thing anyone needed was for her to go into an irradiated ground zero to search for a man who was either lost or very likely dead. So, he kept it from her until his team could find something else, and by the fourth day, she’d determined he’d lied about not knowing anything. His soldiers had tried to follow any trail the paladin left behind but there wasn’t much of one, the irradiated winds and storms within the Glowing Sea having washed away whatever remnants the paladin left behind by the time any rescue team would have arrived.

But by the fifth day, Danse reached out to the Prydwen in the late evening, having finally found his way to the storage facility and gotten ahold of a radio that he had to scrounge for within the bunker that was able to reach the ship. He was injured in the fight with the deathclaw, his power armor utterly decimated – as they very well knew – but he was alive and awaiting a team to come take over so he could receive proper medical treatment. And by the early morning of day six, he was back on the ship.

For some reason, however, Arthur’s mind decided to ignore the details of nearly half of the weeks’ events and stick with what happened in his night terror, and he didn’t even know _why_ his mind cooked up that sort of dream. Did it have to do with his waning friendship with Danse? The upcoming fight with the Institute? Was he worried about Nora leaving him? Or was his subconscious paranoid about the two of them running off together, something he hadn’t really worried about in a while?

He had no idea.

But as much as he knew he needed to think everything over, he also knew he had to work because things in the Commonwealth would not slow down just because he had an episode. However, as he was ready to meet with Kells, Nora told him he needed a day off; she went to both Kells – the lancer-captain agreeing after hearing what had happened – and Cade – who _especially_ agreed and pushed for it – before Arthur finally agreed. Then again, even if no one else had agreed with her, it was very likely she would have gotten her way, regardless, because she always did.

So, Arthur shed his battle coat and gloves, rolled up the sleeves of his uniform, and just… stayed in the room with her. He tried to read and sign off on some reports, knowing they were stacking up on his desk and would only keep doing so until he took care of them; but it turned out when Nora said _’take a day off,’_ she apparently meant _’take a fucking day off,’_ because every time she found him with a report in his hand, she snatched it away and tossed it back on the desk, then shoved him in his rolling desk chair across the room. He didn’t fight her over it despite how she had to stop him from working a few different times, instead finding it relieving in the way she was fussing over him. It was… nice.

Arthur knew she was right, though; he needed to do _other_ things – things that weren’t work- or Brotherhood-related. He wasn’t really sure what to do at first because he didn’t normally get days off – except the night on the beach, of course – but now that he actually had an entire day to himself, he didn’t even know what to do with it.

Maxson tried to relax and listen to music Nora played from her pip-boy but he found it extremely difficult to just lay there and do nothing; he tried working out, doing pushups and sit-ups, but those could only be done for so long. Hell, he even tried reading whatever books Nora had lying around, many – alright, maybe _all_ – of them he was unsure how she’d even obtained considering what prewar America was like – titles such as _The Communist Manifesto, The State and Revolution,_ and _The Principles of Communism_ – which he quickly finished and had nothing else to read. Admittedly, he was not a fan of political theory, but he enjoyed reading so he took what he could get.

Then again, the few comic books that Nora was attempting to read but seemed to be struggling with he figured he’d pass on. He wasn’t much for comics, anyway. Not anymore, at least.

Which might have been why he ended up in the bathroom grooming himself. His hair was getting a bit long, so he took to trimming the top and fixing the fade beneath it, so it was all shorter and at the appropriate lengths. And when he finished his head hair, he moved on to his beard; but rather than keeping it long, he opted for the shorter length – the length Nora had gotten excited over the last time she saw it. The length that made him look his actual age. The length that showed his damned scar on his face much more prominently.

It took maybe thirty minutes before the Elder was settled on his hair and beard. He finished up by using a blade to shave along his beard line – where his head connected with his neck – to ensure it looked cleaner despite having done so earlier in the morning just as he did every morning. And once he was done, he ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the short hairs and turning his head this way and that to get a good look at it. Oftentimes, he worried his facial hair looked patchy when it was so short, some spots seeming a bit darker than others, but it looked fairly good at the moment.

Okay, more than fairly good. 

He was feeling pretty damn confident.

And even as he looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes scanning the trench-like scar on his right cheek that could have easily removed a good portion of his face if he hadn’t acted quickly enough, he, for once, didn’t really mind its existence. While he claimed it as a trophy, it had still always bothered him before because it drew attention; people would stare at it, mostly upon first meetings and even if he was their superior officer. And it made him self-conscious when those who he’d been sleeping with in the past were hesitant on even touching his face because of it, worried that they’d hurt him or because it looked gross or whatever. But right now? None of that mattered.

Shit, he didn’t even mind the slash that essentially ran from above his left eyebrow, down his left cheek, and through the left side of his lower lip; or the cratered, salmon pink scar on his shoulder; nor the rest of the scars that were scattered all over his body. They were all a part of him – and maybe he’d felt different in the past and would feel differently again tomorrow or even later today, but right now, he didn’t mind the marks of war that littered his body.

Maybe he had Nora to thank for that because she didn’t mind them, either.

Arthur wiped a towel along his face and neck and then ran his fingers through his damp hair, feeling satisfied enough with his work to leave the bathroom. He opened the door, stepping into the main part of the bedroom where Nora was lying on their bed on her back, her legs stretched straight up and bare feet on the wall while she held a comic book in her hands above her face.

“I don’t understand why anyone reads this trash,” she grumbled, likely speaking to him since she would have heard him come out of the bathroom. “Grognak? More like _Garbage_ nak, am I right?” The vaultie snorted at her own joke, but when she didn’t hear a laugh or any sort of reply in return, he could tell her face crinkled in annoyance. “Wow, okay, fine. I’ll just be the only one to laugh at my—”

Her head tipped back while she was speaking to look at him from an upside-down angle, but when those royal blue eyes settled on him, she stopped mid-sentence. His jumpsuit was pulled down low on his hips and he wasn’t wearing an undershirt, which it was clear she was immediately focusing on exactly how much skin she could see; but when her eyes raised – lowered? – to his face, seeing his trimmed beard, a wide grin overtook her features.

And then the magazine dropped right on top of her face.

She played it off, because of course she did, by rolling onto her stomach and pretending it never happened, but Arthur just watched her with one eyebrow cocked and a suppressed smile at how absolutely ridiculous she was. He _very clearly_ saw it happen, and she knew that, but she wasn’t about to address it because she never did when she did something ridiculous – just like how, when she looked in one direction while walking, she’d start moving at an angle in the other direction. It was always silly things that she pretended didn’t happen, but Arthur would always notice.

“Well, well, well,” she said as she looked him up and down again. He stalked toward the bed. “Don’t you look pretty.”

Arthur was on her in a second, his body pinning hers down into the mattress as he straddled her thighs just beneath her ass and was leaned over her back. _”’Pretty’?”_

“You heard what I said,” she replied with a grin, wiggling her hips against his groin; he just pushed himself against her, feeling his cock growing hard. Leaning forward, his hands planted on the mattress as he started pressing kisses to her neck, and she tipped her head to the side to give him access. “But don’t you dare think we’re fucking. I have plans that involve us leaving in a few hours, mister.”

“I have nothing else to do. And since when did you become the one in charge?” he growled against her neck, nipping the skin.

“Since this morning when I decided I’ll be taking care of you today. Besides, it’s my turn to choose where we go on a _date,_ and I think this is as good a time as any.” 

“Mm.” Arthur settled his weight against her back, leaning on his elbows as he gently sucked some of the skin on her neck into his mouth until he knew there would be a light bruise; once he released it, he trailed kisses up to her ear before speaking in a low voice. “Don’t get used to it because we both know I’ll put you right back in your place.”

Nora made a soft noise as she shivered beneath him and he just rocked his hips against her ass, making sure she felt how hard he was.

“Fine. But just so you know, I’m touching your butt today. I’ve waited long enough.”

What in the world—

══════════════════

Arthur had grown restless with nothing to do; Nora tried to get him to read one of the comic books but he wasn’t about to do that, and she even tried to get him to play one of the games on her pip-boy, but he just grew too frustrated with the one she had. And after he tried to fuck her one more time, she pushed him off and said they’d just leave right then and there because he was _’being a big fucking baby.’_

He’d dish out consequences for that later.

She managed to convince him to fly the vertibird himself so they could go alone since he had the knowhow, saying she’d already ensured the place was cleared out – having done so yesterday with Preston, apparently – and that they would be safe. Of course, he still brought Final Judgment anyway, just in case, because he wasn’t about to let his pregnant girlfriend be put in any danger. 

He had no idea where they were going, however, because she only told him to _’fly in that direction’_ until they got close, and then told him where to land. They ended up near a lighthouse that he was unfamiliar with but was curious about her plans since she hadn’t told him anything; and as he climbed out of the ‘bird, then helped her out right after, he tried to get more information from her. “What are we doing here, love?”

“I told you. It’s a date.” Her eyes fell to the Gatling laser he had yet to pick up from the vertibird and she scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know if you’re gonna want to carry that up a bunch of steps, though,” she said before returning her gaze back to his face. “Besides, you gotta carry the bag.”

Arthur pursed his lips before grabbing the duffle bag she’d had him put into the ‘bird but refused to tell him what was in it, hoisting it over his shoulder. She’d convinced him to change out of his Brotherhood attire before they left the Prydwen, saying he’d be more comfortable in jeans and a shirt – he had a feeling it had less to do with comfort and more to do with the specific pair of jeans when she handed him the pair and said _’wear these.’_ But at least they weren’t as tight as the _last_ ones she’d handed him.

When they stepped into the lighthouse, his suspicions were correct when she’d tried to get him to go up the steps first. “Please, you go right ahead,” she offered with her arms directing him toward the spiral concrete stairs that led to the top of the lighthouse. 

The look he gave her told her the gig was up. “Nice try, I’m not falling for it. Take your ass up the stairs before I start adding up spankings.” When she grinned at him mischievously and mumbled something like, _’fine, fine,’_ before walking past him, he swatted her rear, receiving a playful glare before she began ascending the stairs.

It was a bit of a climb but they made it to the top, circling the outside platform – which he noticed she was clinging to the railing and wobbling a bit as she walked along it, something he found interesting since she spent most of her time on the Prydwen – before climbing up the last small set of stairs and into the little room at the top. It was empty aside from a small red trunk, though he assumed that wasn’t the case just yesterday when they were clearing it out.

After setting the bag down, he turned to see Nora looking at him with a wide grin on her face, and she quickly closed the distance between them and pressed her body flush to his; one of her hands reached up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him down so their lips could meet in a kiss. It was brief and when she broke away, she looked at her pip-boy for only a moment before unclipping it from her wrist and setting it on the trunk, then going over to the bag to get something from it.

But the moment she bent over and unzipped it to pull something out, Arthur was right behind her, his knees bent and groin immediately against her ass; she would have toppled over if his hands hadn’t grabbed onto her hips to keep her steady.

“Arthur!” she squeaked, her arms flailing for a second before she realized he had ahold of her; but she grabbed a blanket from inside the bag and stood up straight, shooting a glare at him over her shoulder.

“You put it out there,” he muttered and leaned down to press kisses against her neck.

With a dramatic sigh, Nora pulled away from him before unrolling the blanket and spreading it out on the ground, then finally turning back around to face him. He remained where he was, watching her, seeing as her eyes looked him over again – noticing how they lingered on where his erection was straining against the fabric of his jeans. She knew what waited beneath them for her, and that was probably why she bit her lower lip in anticipation before flicking her eyes back up to his and slowly moving toward him. Her hands reached out for his hips, slowly sliding beneath the fabric of his shirt so those soft, prewar fingers touched his bare sides, then slipped toward his stomach and threaded into the hair on his abdomen. She slid them up, up, up until his shirt was riding up to his chest and then she just started tugging it off, which he did for her.

Arthur was quick to request the same of her, grabbing onto the hem and pulling it up and off and tossing it to the side. Nora grinned at him then as he took in the sight of her, though she began undoing his belt and then the button and zipper of his jeans before pushing both his pants and underwear down his legs, crouching down as she did – and actually getting smacked right in the face with his cock as it came free.

Arthur couldn’t help it when he busted out laughing as she pursed her lips and covered her face with her hands, her skin turning tato red. She was clearly embarrassed and there wasn’t even a way to play this one off like she wished she could have, but Nora was just so goddamn ridiculous he couldn’t help himself. It was cute.

He reached down and ran his fingers through her hair, only to receive a groan in response. “Come on, love. Finish what you started,” he encouraged. He heard her sigh before she shifted from crouching and instead got onto her knees, pulling his boots and then the rest of his clothes off.

Once he was naked, her palms went to his thighs, just above his knees, before sliding up and to the outsides of them just beneath his hips – but they didn’t stop there. She looked up at him and met his gaze as her hands were slowly sliding back toward his ass; he didn’t make a move to stop her, remembering how she said she was _’finally going to touch his butt’_ and that she’d _’waited long enough,’_ whatever that meant, and instead let her hands roam.

And then she just fucking _grabbed._

“Success,” she whispered before leaning forward and resting her cheek against his upper thigh. “Arthur, I have waited _months_ to touch your ass. You have no idea.”

Apparently not.

Still, he just rolled his eyes and, rather than questioning her desires, the hand that was stroking her hair just nudged her head toward his groin. “Go on.” She grinned up at him again and slid her hands back around to his front, one resting just above his hip and the other wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock, pumping him a few times before pulling back his foreskin and swirling her tongue along the head.

Arthur let out a low rumble from his chest. “Fuck,” he growled, his fingers threading into her hair. “You really are determined to take care of me today, aren’t you?” The vaultie hummed lightly before sliding more of him into her mouth, her head bobbing back and forth as she kept eye contact with him – and that was perhaps the best part, watching as she took his cock in her mouth all while she stared back at him, nothing but hunger and desire in her eyes.

“Going to take more of me?” he asked, and she nodded her head as much as she could while making a noise of confirmation around him. “Mm. Good girl.” His free hand moved to the back of her head and his hips began moving back and forth slowly as he held her head still, just slowly fucking her face. More and more of him was being pushed into her mouth with each thrust, which he felt her swallow around him every time he pushed close to her gag reflex; and once he finally reached the back of her throat, he held her there, pressing her nose firmly into his groin as he let a low groan rumble from his chest.

Nora swallowed around him again as her nails dug into his hip, dragging downward toward his thigh; when he pulled his hips back all the way to let himself slide free from her mouth, strings of saliva connected his cock to her lips as she gasped for air. Arthur watched as that pink tongue came out to lick her lips and she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking his dick while the wet sound from her saliva was apparent; but rather than taking his cock back into her mouth, she went straight for his balls and sucked one between her lips. Immediately, he pushed his hips forward and let out a low moan, releasing a heavy exhale right after that puffed his cheeks out.

“How did you get so good at this, hm?”

Nora rolled her eyes before pulling away from his balls with a _pop._ “Maybe having a boyfriend who makes me suck his dick all the time has increased my skill a little.”

“Oh, really? So, I _make_ you suck my dick _all the time?”_

A mischievous grin was flashed up at him and she pulled her hand from his cock. “Yeah, all the fucking time. There’s hardly ever a moment where it’s not in my mou—”

She should have known better than to run her mouth because it was soon filled, her nose pressed against his groin before she even had a chance to finish speaking; her throat constricted around the head of his cock as she was forced to deepthroat him without getting a chance to swallow.

“I suppose I should – _mmm_ – make that true, then, shouldn’t I? Make you suck – _mmmshit_ – suck my dick all the time?” her nails were digging into his hip and thigh as she was gagging around him, but the moment he felt her tap his thigh three times, he pulled away. He kept his hands in her hair while she coughed and took deep inhales, but after a few moments of regaining herself, she looked back up at him.

He was back in her mouth quickly, hips moving back and forth as he fucked her face while letting out low moans from how hard she sucked and sometimes just the feel from hitting the back of her throat. But he was close fairly quickly, he could feel it; that coiling heat in his belly, at the base of his spine – it was building and building and building.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled. “I’m close. Let me cum on your tits.” Nora moaned around him before he pulled her off with another _pop,_ then she shifted on her knees so she was holding herself as high up as she could in front of him. Her arms moved inward and pushed her breasts together while she tipped her head back, eyes looking up at his face as he was quickly stroking himself.

It didn’t take long, and when he came, he released a low groan as he watched himself spend on her chest, even getting a string of it on her throat. When he finished, he released his cock and raised his hand in front of her face, watching as her eyes immediately dropped to it to see how some of his cum had gotten onto his fist – and she got the message, leaning forward to clean it off.

“Shit,” he whispered, just holding his hand out and keeping his fingers spread for her to work on cleaning it. She dragged her tongue between his thumb and index finger and even sucked his thumb into her mouth to make sure she got every last drop. When he pulled his hand back, however, her eyes dropped to her chest and she went to wipe his cum off her, but he pushed her wrist away before dropping to his knees in front of her, getting to her level.

The look she gave him was one of confusion and curiosity, but when he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue up her chest along one of the strings of cum that he’d left along her, she let out a low moan. “Fuck, Arthur.” Her head tipped back when he did the same thing to another spot, and another, until he’d finally licked off every bit of cum that had been left on her chest and throat. “Is that something all wasteland men do or are you just really into licking your own cum?”

His lips were roughly pressed to hers as he started helping her shift her legs around so she wasn’t on her knees anymore but instead he could guide her to lay down on her back. “I could have just—made you do it—yourself,” he said in between kisses.

“Mm-mm. I’d much rather—watch you—do it.”

They kissed for a few more moments before she reached over and grabbed her pip-boy off the trunk, checking the time on it again – but he was just kissing her neck to make up for the loss of her lips on his.

“So, I guess I don’t need to ask what we’re gonna do to pass the next two hours until sunset?”

His eyes flicked up to her face and he just grinned at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo!
> 
> I just want to say thanks to everyone who’s stuck around so far — it means a lot! we’re gearing up for the fight on the institute fairly soon, so that’ll be exciting. I don’t want to say how many chapters are left because I have no fucking idea, I just kinda write as it goes and sometimes shit gets longer or shorter, so we’ll see.
> 
> I want to see how everyone is feeling about the story thus far. we’re deep into it but I still want to make sure y’all are still interested. is there anything you think can be better in future chapters, whether it’s how a character is portrayed, my writing, etc?
> 
> I adore constructive criticism, so please feel free to leave it at any time. always remember you can check my profile for how to contact me. I now have discord!


	71. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d been silent as they watched the sunset for a while, just relaxing in their embrace and enjoying the quiet presence of each other; Nora found it comforting to just be in his arms, feeling his warm body against her back and knowing that he was there with her, loving and protecting her no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [throws smut and fluff everywhere like confetti]
> 
> y'all deserve this after that blind betrayal shit I put you through
> 
> it's short, but it finishes up their date

The sky was already growing darker as the sun closed in on the horizon to the west, though there was still a bit of time before it was officially sunset. They’d taken advantage of the extra time they had after leaving the Prydwen early, of course, and still continued to do so as Nora was sat in Arthur’s lap while he was sitting on the floor, leaned back against the circular glass wall that surrounded them in the small room at the top of the Kingsport Lighthouse.

The vaultie was grinding against his length, slicking the underside of his cock with a mixture of her cum and his own from the last time they’d fucked – which was about ten minutes ago, really. But they weren’t rushing and instead she was taking her time teasing him as her lips were on his throat, placing soft kisses along his beard line while his head was tipped back against the glass to give her more access to such a vulnerable location. One of her hands was on the side of his head, her thumb gently rubbing over his earlobe and tracing the shell of his ear – something she hadn’t really ever done before but he was certainly appreciating the attention there now – while the other was rubbing her palm up and down his bare chest.

He was enjoying the attention as she was truly taking care of him like she’d said she would this morning, but when her hand snaked up to his collarbone, thumb on one side and fingers on the other, that familiar feeling of panic jolted through his bones and his own hand shot up to grab her wrist. Immediately, Nora’s lips found his and she pressed comforting kisses to them, though he refused to let go just yet.

“It’s okay, baby. I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t try to take your control, I promise.” Her words were soft and her tone gentle as she spoke against his lips; it was calming and soothing. 

But Arthur was still reminded of the night terror and how she’d taken his control in it so easily to where he was reluctant to even try to take it back at first. While he trusted Nora with his life – perhaps not in a battle, especially considering Danse carried her most of the time on their missions – he still hesitated before releasing her wrist. True to her word, though, her fingers never strayed any higher than his collarbone and so he felt comfortable enough to return his hands to her body, stroking over every inch of flesh he could reach.

Nora’s lips broke from his own then and she pulled back enough so they were looking at one another as they both panted, trying to catch their breaths, but when she pushed herself up a bit higher on her knees, Arthur reached down between their bodies and grabbed hold of his cock. He held it at an upward angle and positioned it so she could sink down on him, which she did so with a low moan. And when their hips were flush, his hand then found her jaw, cupping it, his thumb tracing her bottom lip before she opened her mouth and allowed him to press the pad of it onto her tongue; she didn’t need orders anymore for her to know she needed to close her lips around the digit and suck, because she’d learned what he wanted long ago.

“Good girl,” he praised, and Nora hummed around him while she slowly began to grind; his free hand was on her hip, helping guide her back and forth as she moved. Their eyes remained locked and, after a few moments of sucking, the Elder pulled his thumb from her mouth and gently rubbed the pad of it across her cheek, leaving a wet line of saliva along her skin.

The vaultie leaned forward to wrap one hand around the back of his neck and the other on the back of his shoulder, nails digging into both areas when her hips started rocking faster, increasing their panting breaths, both breathing the other’s face. His thumb found her clit and began rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub, which Nora gasped from the sudden contact. While he normally would have been talking to her, saying dirty things that made her respond to his call, he remained quiet this time — aside from his own noises of pleasure — instead drinking in each and every sound she released from his lap in such an intimate moment.

It didn’t take long for her to cum, her body trembling atop his as he felt her pussy clenching around his cock – and that brought him over the edge soon after, spilling deep inside her for not the first time tonight. Their lips met again, and Nora pulled him into a slow, loving kiss without lifting her hips, instead just letting his cock go soft inside her until it slipped out on its own.

══════════════════

They soon found themselves relaxing, Nora sitting between his legs with her back against his chest and head on his shoulder, his cheek close to her temple while he held her close. They hadn’t bothered to get dressed or clean up, feeling no need for it yet, and instead just remained sitting there as the sun was going down and painting the sky with its brilliant blues and pinks and purples. The glass room they were in had metal bars crisscrossing all around it on the outside while the glass itself was tinted slightly dark, but the view of the sunset was still clear enough and entirely beautiful that it could be appreciated from where they sat. 

To their right were two bottles of Nuka-Cola, one glass tumbler, and a bottle of rum. Arthur had nearly scolded her when she pulled out the rum, but she’d ensured him it was so _he_ could drink, not her – though he’d barely even touched the liquor and his glass was still about halfway full, anyway. Still, she figured he might want to relax a bit since the morning was stressful, and she’d make sure he didn’t drink too much before they went home; but it seemed he wasn’t very interested in drinking, anyway.

She hadn’t brought him any cigars, though, and _especially_ not any cigarettes; she wasn’t about to encourage that habit.

They’d been silent as they watched the sunset for a while, just relaxing in their embrace and enjoying the quiet presence of each other; Nora found it comforting to just be in his arms, feeling his warm body against her back and knowing that he was there with her, loving and protecting her no matter what.

But he was the first to break that silence.

“You like to make bets, correct?”

She tilted her head a bit against him. “Mm? Yeah, why?”

“I have a bet for us.”

Oh! Immediately, Nora shifted between his legs to where her side was against his chest instead of her back, eyes looking up at him with piqued interest. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

One of his hands slid down to her stomach, palm resting flat above where she would grow larger in the coming months from her pregnancy. “I think we’ll have a boy.”

The vaultie looked down at his hand, staring at it for a second before she returned her eyes to his face and cocked one eyebrow up – well, she _attempted_ to cock one eyebrow up, but it never worked; instead, her face just crinkled in a weird way as she tried, but that never stopped her from doing it. “And if we do?”

“Then you have to marry me.”

Nora was fairly certain her heart skipped a beat as her lips just slightly parted while she stared up at him. Was he serious? That wasn’t something he’d joke about, right? Well, joking as in not being genuine about wanting to marry her. She knew the Brotherhood took marriage seriously when it came to marrying Elders and especially when it came to marrying a _Maxson,_ so she didn’t doubt he was being sincere about the topic, but it still made her pause. Arthur hadn’t actually talked about marriage with her before — she assumed it was because of her late husband or even that he didn’t want to marry her, or maybe that he _couldn’t;_ but hearing him mention it now? Her stomach suddenly had butterflies in it, and she once again felt like a teenage girl who was falling in love with her boyfriend.

His free hand raised to cup her jaw as he leaned down to kiss her gently, and that was what brought her out of her momentary stupor; when he pulled back, she studied his face for a few more seconds before finally finding her voice again.

“And if it’s a girl?”

The Elder shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “Then I could probably get someone else to marry me, I guess.”

Pursing her lips, the vaultie shoved her shoulder into his chest as if he would even feel any sort of pain from it, but he just grinned. “Not funny, jerk,” she grumbled.

“Alright, alright. If it’s a girl, then… hm. Then I’ll have to marry you.”

“Uh-huh.” Her stomach fluttered again. “And what if we end up with twins?”

That seemed to catch him off guard, but he only faltered for half a second before shrugging once more. “Then I suppose we’ll have to marry each other.”

The look on her face must have been one he couldn’t read because his eyebrows soon knitted together as he studied her, but Nora just reached up and grabbed hold of his face with both hands before crashing her mouth against his, holding him in the kiss for as long as she could. By the time she pulled away, they were both panting and breathless again, but she just leaned her forehead against his own as she stared into that blue sky she always found herself getting lost in — the same one that always stared back.

“Alright, Maxson. You have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my comments have been barren lately. come talk to me, fuckers. I need praise.


	72. Reinforcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Brothers and sisters – let me be the first to welcome you to the Commonwealth; I hope your journey from the Capital Wasteland was not too burdensome. For formality’s sake, allow me to make introductions. I am Elder Arthur Maxson and I’m in charge of the Prydwen and its crew.”

“Go take a cold shower.”

“Mm-mm.”

“It’s too early.”

“Not for me.”

“Arthurrrr—”

A thunderous rumble bellowed from his chest as he gently rolled his lover from her side onto her back, which allowed the Elder to lean over her and press their lips together in a gentle kiss. Nora whined into it at first, clearly unhappy with the idea of being woken up so early since he rarely ever made her get up with him, but she soon conceded when she felt his hand between her legs, fingers rubbing against her folds.

Their kiss was slow and sleepy but also sensual and loving, and Arthur rubbed slow circles around her clit for a few moments before sliding his hand further down and pushing two into her pussy; she was already a bit wet – it never took long to get her that way – and he could feel some of his cum in her from last night, as well. A few pumps of his fingers allowed him to spread some of his spend around as lubricant before he pulled the digits out and moved his body between her legs, not really caring to tease and instead preferring to get straight to what he wanted by reaching down between them and guiding himself in. His hips rolled to ease his cock into her – back and forth and back and forth, a motion and routine he’d come to know well – until he was fully hilted, their hips flush together, tied. The kiss didn't break until then and Arthur found himself pressing his lips to different spots on her clavicle as he remained still, giving her time to adjust though she wouldn’t need long – the roll of her own hips being his cue.

Leaning on one forearm, his other hand went to her side, a rough palm sliding down her sensitive skin and to her thigh where he encouraged her to pull it up more and wrap it around his hip as he started to take her gently. His hips moved back and forth, pumping his cock in and out with slow but deep thrusts while his mouth trailed up to her neck where he placed soft, loving kisses along her throat. “So perfect,” he murmured against her. “My beautiful girl.”

The vaultie tipped her head back and released the beginning of her climb to a crescendo of music and Arthur immediately took that opportunity to pepper soft bites along the column of her throat, pushing into her a little harder for a single thrust and garnering a slightly louder noise from her before returning to that same gentle pace.

She threaded fingers into his hair, brushing the strands back and out of his face while her other hand was placed on his bicep, nails just slightly digging in, biting, while she quietly moaned his name, like music to his ears. The Elder allowed his eyes to close as he pressed his face against the side of hers and relished in the sound of her voice and heavy breathing, as well as the feel of her body against his, beneath his, wrapped around him. But his climax was approaching, that familiar heat growing in his belly and near the base of his spine and he couldn’t help it as his hips sped up, thrusts growing a bit rougher; his lips and nose were pressed against the side of her face while he panted, air from each breath brushing against her damp skin. So close, so close—

“Aw, Max!”

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed as he paused and stilled, his breath heavily exhaling against the curve of her jaw as he tried to comprehend what she’d just said and—

Oh.

When they were at the lighthouse two nights ago, just before they’d left, Nora had strayed off as he was securing the bag into the vertibird; when he’d turned around, she was gone, and he’d started panicking – calling her name but not receiving an answer in return. And only a minute or so later had she come around the side of the lighthouse cradling something in her arms. Only once she got close enough had he realized it was a kitten. Its fur was short in length, the color that of what she’d called a ‘tortie,’ but what stood out other than its big, bright yellow eyes and interesting split-faced color pattern where one side was black and the other golden was the thick, still-healing wound that ran down its right cheek, starting just beneath its right eye and going down behind its whiskers, clearly seen against its black fur.

Arthur already knew what would happen from there.

The Elder growled before pushing himself up a bit, spotting where the cat was – the creature had curled itself into the crook of Nora’s other shoulder as if it wasn’t interrupting anything – before he scooped it up and leaned over to drop it on the floor.

“Should have never let you bring that damned thing home,” he growled before repositioning his upper half above her again, leaning onto both forearms now so their bodies were pressed close; but rather than letting her reply as he knew she would, he pressed their lips together in another kiss and started thrusting once more – having never pulled out. The thrusts were rougher than before as he pulled out at a slower pace than he pushed in, but the roughness that he was taking her was nothing compared to how they usually fucked; and when the kiss broke, Arthur’s head tipped down to where his forehead was nearly pressed against the mattress as he grew close to his climax for the second time.

Nora was moaning below him, her arms curled beneath his and hands having found his shoulder blades; she dug her nails into his skin and dragged downward, leaving long, red lines against his scarred flesh that only spurred him on to take her harder and, fuck, he was getting so close—

Whiskers tickled his neck and made him recoil – Nora fucking _giggled_ at his reaction – and when he lifted his head to see that the damned cat was standing in that same spot and staring right at him, he reached up and shoved his hand at the beast, pushing it off the bed and hearing it hit the ground with a soft _thunk._

“Arthur! That was so mean!”

“It’s fine,” he growled, but rather than letting her get distracted again, he pulled out and rolled their bodies over so she was on top, his hands gently nudging her to sit up so she could ride him. He was fine with keeping things mostly gentle if that was what she wanted, but his patience was wearing thin because of the cat – and considering it was so early in the morning, he had a much shorter fuse than he would if it was the afternoon.

“Don’t be mean to my baby,” Nora pouted. He ignored her, though, and instead reached down between them and grabbed his cock, lifting it up and smacking the head against her cunt a few times before holding it straight so she could sink down on it. She slowly started grinding against him while his hands gently rubbed up and down her thighs.

“It’s a cat, Nora.”

The vaultie huffed at him but kept her hips moving, hands sliding to his ribs and fingers splaying as she held herself up; he let her grind at first before he wanted more, his own hands eventually sliding up to her waist as he encouraged her to bounce on him. “Squeeze—yeah, there you go. _Fuck,_ I’m getting close, baby," he groaned. He could tell she was getting close, too, because her moans were growing louder and breathier, and he slid a hand down between her legs to rub his thumb in quick, rough circles against her clit.

But Arthur nearly yelped when he felt sudden, sharp pinpricks in his collarbone that were dragged along his skin toward his shoulder as the fucking kitten went after the chain of his holotags, trying to pull it away to play with it.

His fuse had run short and he was ready to explode like prewar dynamite.

“That’s _it!”_ the Elder snarled. His left arm crossed over his body so his fingers curled against the left side of Nora's waist to pull her so she fell off him and onto the bed with a surprised noise, his free hand grabbing the cat around the stomach and yanking those fucking claws from his skin, undoubtedly drawing blood.

“Arthur, don’t you dare hurt him!”

He brought himself to stand and charged over to the door, knowing Nora was watching him with wide eyes, probably terrified of what he might do – they’d only had the cat for a couple days, after all – but he never had the desire to actually _hurt_ the animal, just to remove it from the situation before that desire became a reality and the feline managed to fall off the flight deck by accident.

The door that led to the main deck was pulled open just enough for him to stick his arm out and drop the cat right outside, and then it was slammed shut again before he stormed right back toward the bed.

“Did you _really_ just kick my cat out so we could finish having sex?”

“Yes,” he growled as he climbed onto the mattress and over her; he rolled her onto her back and pushed her thighs open so he could get between them again. “The damned thing’s a nuisance and you can bring it back in when we’re done.” Arthur shifted forward then and propped her ass up on his thighs before he pushed himself back in and put his hands on her waist, beginning to thrust. He was fucking her roughly, his mind and body craving a release he’d been denied three times now.

Four.

Four times.

Because just as he felt himself getting close again, the fucking cat was yowling outside the door, crying for Nora, and she kept glancing over in that direction with worry on her face even as he was fucking her. She chewed on her lower lip and her eyes were clearly asking if she could let the little demon in – and after a minute of her silent pleading, he just gave up.

Arthur pulled out with an irritated grunt and got off the bed, going back to the door and opening it just enough for the furry beast to sprint in, its furry paws sliding across the floor as it ran straight to the bed and climbed up the sheets to get to the vault dweller. The Elder slammed the bulkhead shut then before heading toward the bathroom.

“Arthur? Where are you going?”

“To shower and masturbate.”

══════════════════

“Brothers and sisters – let me be the first to welcome you to the Commonwealth; I hope your journey from the Capital Wasteland was not too burdensome. For formality’s sake, allow me to make introductions. I am Elder Arthur Maxson and I’m in charge of the Prydwen and its crew. This—” he motioned to Kells, who was standing directly to his right, “—Is my second-in-command, Lancer-Captain Kells. We then have Knight-Captain Cade, our medic; Proctor Ingram, our head engineer; Proctor Quinlan, who is the head of the archives and R&D division; Proctor Teagan, our quartermaster; and Knight-Sergeant Gavil, who is in charge of logistics.”

Each officer saluted with their fist to their heart as they were introduced, leaving only two people nearby unaddressed. Arthur’s eyes locked on to Danse who, surprisingly, wasn’t in his power armor; it’d been damaged in a mission yesterday, apparently, and there wasn’t enough time to fix it yet. He could imagine the paladin felt quite naked. “Additionally, Paladin Danse, my most respected field officer.” Danse saluted just like the others had. “Some of you will be reporting directly to him while others will be reporting to the paladins who have come along in your groups.”

When Danse nodded his head, Arthur paused to look at the group of soldiers, taking in the sight of them – there were so many faces he’d have to remember; so many new names he’d have to learn.

“Finally, I’d like to introduce you to General Nora Parker.” Arthur turned halfway to his left to look at Nora, who was just standing in the background – out of Brotherhood uniform, of course, because he wouldn’t even be able to _wrangle_ her into one of them if the world depended on it – _and_ with the damn kitten on her shoulder because of course she brought the fucking thing; but at the sound of her name, her eyes grew wide and her brows raised. She looked right at Arthur with a slightly panicked expression and he realized catching her off guard like that might not have been the best idea since he hadn’t told her he’d be introducing her. He reached his hand out and made a motion with it to urge her forward. “Come on, love,” he whispered, too low for anyone else to hear since she was close to him.

Nora stepped forward and up to his side, her face now tato red and overtaking her freckles as the kitten remained perched in the spot it’d claimed as its own.

Arthur turned back to the crowd of soldiers before him. “General Parker is the leader of the Minutemen, a local militia that works to encourage settlers around the Commonwealth to fight back against the Institute and other wasteland threats. Most of the settlements you see are under the protection of her Minutemen with the help of the Brotherhood as we have numerous trade routes and agreements set up between our factions.”

His hands clasped behind his back then as he stood at parade rest. “Now, as for where you will be staying, those who are of an officer rank, including paladins, there are reserved spots on the ship. For the rest of you, cots have been set up down here in the airport in an enclosed area so you will not be exposed to the elements. We’ve also set up a separate area as a mess hall with tables and will have someone designated as a mess officer on duty. Additionally, there are benches and bays for anyone who needs to work on weapons or armor.”

The Elder shifted so he was fully facing the sea of soldiers, hands still behind his back. “Please take some time to communicate with your commanding officers and then take the rest of the evening to relax and enjoy yourselves after your long trip. Ad Victoriam.”

The loud salutes and thuds from postures shifting and boot heels connecting seemed to make Nora flinch as it echoed in the area. She was the only one who didn’t salute because, of course, she never did and she probably never would, but he wouldn’t reprimand her for it and if he didn’t care, no one else would question. But Arthur only glanced at her momentarily before watching the soldiers begin to clear out – at least until that fine-tuned feeling of eyes on him caused him to bristle. He turned his head, gaze meeting Nora’s as she was staring at him intently, but the expression on her face was one he didn’t really recognize. It was something that almost seemed confused and… hurt?

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Just the General of the Minutemen?”

He studied her face for a long moment, brows furrowed, before he returned his gaze to the crowd, just observing. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Nora.”

“You didn’t plan on introducing me as anything other than just ‘General of the Minutemen’?”

“What other title would I introduce you as? A knight? It seemed unnecessary.”

She was silent for a few seconds before there was a scoff that only exited her nose. “Unbelievable,” she muttered beneath her breath. Arthur turned back to her just as she began to walk away, but his hand shot out to grab her arm, stopping her from leaving.

“Don’t… don’t do that, Nora,” he said quietly. “I can’t read your mind and you know I struggle with—” he cut himself off before looking away, scanning the area again as his free hand ran down his beard. Their eyes met again before she shook her head and looked down, and he finally released her arm.

“Why didn’t you introduce me as your girlfriend or whatever? I thought we moved past that.”

His brow knitted together. That was what she was upset about? That he didn’t introduce her as the General _and_ his girlfriend? He wasn’t technically courting her despite the fact she was pregnant with his child and the Council would still have to approve of her to be ‘fit’ as his wife and the mother of his child before he’d even be allowed to marry her – though if they didn’t approve of her, they’d have a hell of a time stopping him. 

Arthur sighed before glancing around again, noticing how there were still quite a few soldiers nearby, many of them chatting with each other or the officers. When he looked back at Nora, she still hadn’t looked up at him. “I am not sure introducing you as my girlfriend to a group of soldiers during an official meeting is… _appropriate.”_ Her eyes lifted to him then. “I do not deny we are together, and I will not deny it. I will gladly introduce you as such on a personal basis, but I cannot allow that to be intertwined with my job until—”

“Until we’re married,” she finished.

“Until we’re married,” he confirmed. He watched as her eyes fell to the ground again, her head likely spinning in thought, until she finally just nodded.

“Okay.”

A small smile crossed his lips and she returned it. “Come,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of where Danse and the other officers were. “Let’s join the others.”

“You’re not gonna kiss me first?”

“Absolutely not. Your demon scratched me the last time I tried.”

“Aw, it just means he loves you.”

Arthur scoffed as he turned and started toward Danse, but Nora was immediately at his side, her hand slipping into his and their fingers threading together; and while he might have normally pulled away and scolded her over such a public display of affection, especially when he was trying to remain professional, he resisted the urge now. After all, the bruises on his throat threw away that professionalism, didn’t they?

══════════════════

It’d been a long time since Danse had actually been to the Citadel so there were many new faces who’d greeted him since he was assigned as their commanding officer for the time being; of course, there were also plenty of old faces he remembered before he’d left on his scouting mission to the Commonwealth with Recon Squad Gladius, as well. Even when gazing out over the crowd of soldiers, he could pick out soldiers he’d trained, pride swelling in his chest from how fast they’d excelled through the ranks – it meant he did his job and did it well, as did they.

The reinforcements were slowly funneling out of the area and making their way toward where they’d be staying, and as he watched, his eyes locked on to a familiar face in the distance. He studied her from afar for a moment, recognizing the woman he’d been an initiate with oh so long ago and how they’d trained together while working through the ranks. He hadn’t seen much of her for a while even before he left for the Commonwealth, but he remembered her clearly.

“Paladin Guerrero,” he called as he approached, keeping a friendly smile on his face and his hands behind his back in parade rest. “It has been some time since we’ve last worked together; it’ll be good to fight by your side once more.”

Guerrero turned to face him, her eyes meeting his own, and a wide smile crossed her lips at the realization it was him. “Well, hello, Danse. Looking as handsome as ever, I see.”

Wait, what?

Needless to say, her words caught him off guard and his mouth opened for a second before snapping shut; he cleared his throat. “Ah, it’s—uh—it’s good to see you. I hope the trip from the Capital Wasteland wasn’t too hazardous?” The way she was smiling at him was already making him nervous and he shifted from foot to foot a couple times, his jaw clenching and unclenching while Cade was screaming at him in the back of his head to _’stop doing that because you’ll give yourself a headache!’_ He’d literally just approached her and the situation was becoming awkward.

But perhaps what caught him even _more_ off guard was how she… well, _hugged_ him. “Not too bad,” she said – and then she just _groped his bicep._ “Looks like someone’s been working out. You weren’t this big last time I saw you.”

Danse wasn’t a very touchy-feely person, not really; it was a strange and uncomfortable feeling when people were so damn handsy. One would think after spending so much time with Nora – a woman who had literally zero issue with invading his personal space – he’d be fine with it by now; and yet, it still caught him off guard when Guerrero wrapped her arms around him in a hug. And not only that, she _groped him_ and _complimented him;_ but it wasn’t just a regular compliment – it was a compliment about his muscles.

His _muscles._

Oh, god.

His face flushed a bright red and he opened and closed his mouth again, repeating it a few times, flubbing like a fish, stammering out a strained sound while he tried to think of what to say – something, _anything._ He kept his eyes focused on the concrete, brows furrowed, while the cogs in his head were spinning, spinning, spinning on overdrive. Could she see them moving beneath his skull? “I—uhm—uh—thank… you?”

Oh, hell. He was an idiot.

And she apparently _loved_ it if her giggle was anything to go by.

“I see you’re still shy as ever,” she said, her grin of perfect teeth wide. “How have you been since the last time we saw each other?”

Danse couldn’t think as the sound of her giggle kept ringing in his ears like a bell; there was a lump in his throat, too, that just would not go down no matter how hard he swallowed, and he was fairly certain she kept looking at his throat whenever it bobbed. Was she always like this? He couldn’t remember, it was so long ago since they’d last worked together. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been good. Thank you. And yourself?”

“I’ve been doing good, as well.”

He was panicking. It was a mistake to approach her – there had to be a way out of this situation. The way she was looking at him was only making him turn an even brighter shade of red and he knew if the sun were to randomly go out, his face could light up the entire airport in a crimson glow and probably even heat it, too.

But he didn’t have to wish for something to save him from this flirtatious creature for long because Arthur was approaching with—

Oh, no. With Nora trailing behind him like a lost puppy. This could only get worse.

“Ah, Paladin Guerrero, what a pleasure to see you again,” the Elder greeted. There was a nod made to Danse that he returned, but his eyes immediately went to the vault dweller and saw that suspicious look on her face as she studied Guerrero. “Allow me to introduce you to General Parker of the Minutemen. You’ll be working closely with her when it comes time to take the Institute,” he added.

Guerrero’s grin seemed to grow even wider at the sight of Nora – or was that his imagination? “Hello, Elder Maxson, and nice to meet you, General Parker. I’m going to enjoy working with you – I’ve heard lots about you, all good things, I promise.

Oh, god, was she actually flirting with _Nora_ now!? Danse looked to Arthur for some sort of guidance or explanation or _something_ but the Elder was either unbothered or didn’t really notice – which made no goddamn _sense_ – and the slow grin that took over and lit up Nora’s face while her entire expression changed told him the world really should have ended when the bombs dropped 210 years ago because it was definitely about to end right here and now otherwise.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

“Well, you’ll have to tell me what some of those good things are some time because now I’m curious,” the vaultie replied.

He _finally_ caught Arthur’s gaze and it must have been then that the Elder realized Danse had a panicked and uncomfortable expression on his face – and yet he only cocked one eyebrow up in question. Was he _really_ that oblivious or did he just not care – because he sure as hell cared when _Danse_ and Nora spoke and when there was even a slight hint at flirting, and even when there wasn’t!

This was… frustrating. No, it was _beyond_ frustrating.

“So, how long have you been a paladin…?” Nora asked, leaving the end as a question for Guerrero’s name.

“Guerrero. Paladin Guerrero. But you can call me Kira, if you like. I was promoted to paladin almost seven years ago. Danse—I mean, Paladin Danse and I ended up going down separate paths around that time, so we didn’t see much of each other.”

Nora’s eyes seemed to light up even more and Danse just wanted to _hide._ She must have caught Kira’s slip-up.

“Oh, _really?”_ the vaultie asked, her eyes flicking over to him. He tried to give her a look of warning but, as usual, she ignored it. “So, it’s like you two are being… _reunited.”_ It wasn’t a question.

He felt his face flush a deep red again. “Nora,” he growled, trying to warn her again to stop before she went any further, but he knew it was a pointless effort. Nora always did what she wanted and the more uncomfortable he became, the more she poked and prodded and peeled away his hiding places. But as a last resort, he looked to Arthur again, his eyes almost pleading his friend to stop the situation before it got out of hand – to just _take Nora away._

But the vaultie’s grin turned into something wicked and the paladin felt his heart skip a beat. Oh, no.

“We should all eat dinner together some time. What do you say, Kira?”

Oh, god.

“It would be my honor, General Parker. I would love to get to know you more, especially since we’ll be working side-by-side.”

Danse wanted to die. Where was the nearest deathclaw nest?

Nora locked eyes with him again and he thought her mere gaze might make him explode. Were they planning this? They had to be planning this somehow. And Arthur didn’t even seem to care or maybe he just wasn’t even paying attention.

“Excellent,” the vaultie said as her attention returned to Kira. “How about tonight?” Oh, please, no. “We can meet in—” she glanced back at Arthur and suddenly Danse wasn’t the only one who realized the Elder wasn’t even part of the conversation – instead, he was… having a staring contest with the cat. Or was it a glaring contest? Nora elbowed him lightly – the cat won. He could have sworn it gave a triumphant look. “We can all meet in the Elder’s quarters tonight, maybe around six?”

Both Danse and Arthur spoke at the same time.

“1800.”

“1800, Parker.”

Nora just rolled her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kira is Lady_Trevelyan's OC.


	73. Flirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You always have to be a fucking flirt, don’t you?” he finally growled, no longer hiding the jealousy that had been stirring deep in his gut; his hips snapped hard against her – but she just laughed. She fucking _laughed;_ and the only defense he had for it was another swat of his hand against her ass, this time on the other cheek, coaxing another hiss from her.
> 
> “Yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter but I didn’t want to split it. enjoy!

“How much time do we have?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Good, I only need ten. Lock the cat in the bathroom.”

When she pulled away from him, his eyes fell to watch her tongue swipe over her bottom lip, gathering the remaining taste he’d gifted her before she turned and quickly scooped up the kitten into her arms. She was gentle with the creature, cradling it against her chest as she swiftly carried it to the bathroom and gently set it onto the tiled floor, patting its head and whispering reassurances that she’d be back soon before shutting the bulkhead – and he couldn’t help the ache deep in his chest that craved to see how she’d be with their child once it was born. 

Nora was soft and prewar, but she was not what he’d understood a prewar housewife to be – those didn’t even exist anymore, anyway – but he knew she still had a motherly tenderness to her even though she hadn’t gotten the chance to be a mother for long. He’d caught glimpses of it when she told stories about Shaun as an infant in the short time he’d been in her care, when he’d watched her run her fingertips over her bare stomach despite not even showing in her pregnancy yet, and even when she’d taken care of him during the time he’d gotten sick enough that Cade had ordered him to remain in bed for a couple days to recuperate.

And perhaps knowing her motherly nature was present in plenty of the things she did even when it wasn’t always obvious attracted him to her even more because the moment that she’d gently set that demonic cat down and whispered loving words to it, Arthur was charging her. Just as she turned around, his mouth crashed against hers again, closing the gap between them, teeth biting and tugging at her bottom lip while his hands went to her ass and fingers splayed on the clothed cheeks, hoisting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms went over his shoulders as he carried her toward the bed. But rather than laying her on it, he set her down on her feet near the end, breaking the kiss and spinning her around so her back was against his chest; a hand pressed between her shoulder blades and shoved her forward, forcing her to bend over, and Nora managed to catch herself on the metal bar of the footrail, fingers wrapping around it.

Needless to say, her ass was sticking out and against him like a gift wrapped present and was something he took advantage of, but since he was a foot taller than her, they always had to make accommodations and compromises whenever they fucked standing up. The vaultie would lift up to her tiptoes as tall as she could while Arthur would bend his knees and spread his legs as they tried to correct the height difference between them; he never really minded doing it, of course, though he’d likely end up thinking otherwise in ten or fifteen years when his knees felt differently – for now, though, he was just happy to have his dick in her in any way he could.

The Elder was thankful he’d opted to change out of his jumpsuit earlier and instead put on jeans and a shirt, having figured something more comfortable was better to wear since it was a casual dinner amongst friends – well, mostly, considering Nora didn’t actually know Kira. Regardless, having jeans on now made it easier for him when he undid his belt and pants after having already done the same to hers, pushing her pants and underwear down to her knees and then pushing his own down to mid-thigh. His cock was already hard and nearly pulsing as he wrapped his fingers around it, rubbing the head along the outside of her folds teasingly before he slowly pushed himself between them just a little – but not enough to penetrate her just yet.

The soft whine that escaped his lover’s throat told him she was growing desperate and needy, that she wanted more – _needed_ more; and the mere sound of it raised the hairs on his arms, goosebumps soon following as he resisted the urge to just shove his cock into her all the way to the base, to just take her roughly and make her scream and beg him for more, more, _more_ until she finally couldn’t take it any longer.

But Arthur was a patient man, which meant her attempts to get him to fuck her immediately – her wiggling hips, pleading eyes looking back at him over her shoulder, and lower lip that was pulled between her teeth – were futile and instead just earned her a swat to her right ass cheek, his broad hand coming down hard enough on the tender skin that the _clap_ echoed off the metal walls of the room. Nora cried out from the sudden stinging pain and he could only look down to admire the bright red handprint that was forming on her pale skin, the outline of his palm and fingers blatantly clear against her flesh like a tato in an environment it didn’t belong.

“So impatient,” he scolded, his voice low and dangerous because he knew that was how she loved to hear it. Arthur brought his hand up to his mouth, though, and spit onto his palm once, twice, before reaching down to rub the resulting spit onto his cock for lubricant; of course, Nora glanced back at him to see what he was doing but turned back around when she realized his hand was out of her view. It only took a few seconds for him to rub the saliva around his shaft, however, before he angled himself and started pushing in – but rather than easing in like he normally would have, he instead kept pushing in without stopping, making her feel the slow, constant burn of being stretched.

Nora sucked an inhale through her teeth, the sound hissing, while her body tensed despite how he slid one hand up and down her spine beneath her shirt in an attempt to soothe her, the other holding her hip to keep her still. But she twisted a little and her palm was pressed against his bare stomach – his shirt having been pulled up to just beneath his chest to keep it out of the way.

“Stop for a second,” she said quietly between panted breaths – an order, but he granted it.

His hips stilled though he leaned over to curve his body against her back, one hand bracing himself on the metal footrail beside hers while the other slid to her throat, fingers wrapping around the column possessively. “What, you suddenly can’t take me anymore?” he asked tauntingly, his mouth close enough to her ear that she’d be able to feel his breath with each word he spoke. “Your cunt get too tight or my dick get too big for you?”

“Shut up,” she growled. “It’s just a lot when you push in like that and you know it. You’re not exactly _small,_ Arthur.”

“Oh? And what’s not small about me?” The Elder placed kisses along her neck, the action gentle and loving, an attempt to help her relax because he could feel her cunt pulsing around him from how he had just been pushing into her without easing even though she was adjusting to him fairly quickly.

“Seriously? You want me to stroke your ego?”

“I want you to tell me why you think my dick isn’t small while I’m stuffed halfway inside your pussy.”

Really, Arthur knew he wasn’t small; while he was average in length for someone of his height, he was fairly thick, and his girth could easily become overwhelming and painful if he wasn’t careful — and it could even cause damage. And while Nora’s hipbones had shifted to accommodate birthing a child, she was still physically much smaller than him, which meant he had to watch how rough he was in the beginning; he had no doubt she could handle everything else he threw at her – mostly – but tearing her apart wasn’t something either of them wanted or needed.

But that didn’t mean he had to be _entirely_ gentle.

Nora’s head tipped to the side as she granted him better access to her neck and he immediately used that opportunity to take a section of skin into his mouth, sucking hard enough to bruise. “Fuck,” she breathed. “Okay. You’re thick.”

“Mm.” Once he was certain she’d bruise, he released her flesh from his mouth with a _pop_ before dragging the flat of his tongue over the same spot. “Not too long?”

“Perfect in length,” she admitted as he sucked another section of skin into his mouth with the intention of making her bruise there, as well, “But you’re fucking _thick,_ okay?” The reiteration was done so with clear irritation in her voice. “My body has to adjust.” 

After releasing her skin again, he placed a soft kiss to the spot before trailing kisses to just beneath her ear, purring words gently against her. “So, I was right – you can’t take me anymore. Maybe I should stop fucking you, then.”

“… Wait, what? Why?”

“Well, I don’t want to hurt you. If you can’t take my cock, then we shouldn’t be fucking.”

“What? N-no!” Panic was in her voice and he could almost _smell_ it in the air, his lungs taking a deep inhale against the side of her throat, eyes closing. The thought of going without being fucked by him apparently terrified her and he couldn’t help but relish in the fact she needed him, even if it was just for release – and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t need her, too. “I can take it,” she admitted.

“Mm. Good.” With that, Arthur abruptly thrusted forward and shoved the rest of himself in, making her cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure; he remained still afterward as his hips were flush against her ass, allowing her to adjust to him the rest of the way while he continued placing kisses along her neck. “Good girl,” he purred. “I knew you could take it – you’ve always taken me so well before.”

The vaultie was panting beneath him but the kisses to her neck and the soft praises he whispered in her ear helped her body relax, and once it did, he stood up while his hands shifted down to hold her hips still. A few test thrusts were made to ensure she could take it, his knees bending a bit more when he pushed in, his body rolling a little every time his hips met her ass; and when he was satisfied and certain she could handle him, the Elder began fucking her at a moderate pace. Of course, the pace didn’t remain that way for long as he soon picked it up to where he was taking her roughly enough that his hips were clapping against her ass while she was moaning loudly, keening, crying out his name as the footrail of the bed creaked with each thrust he made, matching the song that came from her lips.

“Need me to stop now?” he asked, his tone taunting once again despite how he was panting alongside her.

“No, please don’t stop, baby.”

Callused hands left her hips and slid up, up, up her sides, moving to her shoulders as his fingers curled around the bones so he could pull her back into each thrust he made, which allowed him to drive his cock into her harder and deeper, hitting her cervix and making her keen as she screamed his name and begged for more, more, _more._

“You sure? You sure you want my cock, Nora? Don’t want anything else? Something _different?”_ The final word was accentuated with a rougher thrust, his hips snapping hard against her ass as she inhaled sharply.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting _jealous_ again, Arthur,” she hissed, and he realized the cat was out of the bag — _not_ the bathroom — but he wasn’t about to admit it.

Hell no.

“I’m not _jealous,”_ the Elder snarled, his hips snapping against her again.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Nora knew him well; she knew him inside and out, knew all the different moods he had, all the different ways he fucked her – so it was unsurprising when she knew he was fucking her with an animalistic urge to prove she belonged to him and the intention of making everyone – including Nora her-fucking- _self_ – understand she was _off limits, taken, spoken for, claimed,_ even if that meant making her scream his name loud enough that the two-syllable word reverberated off the metal walls throughout the entire fucking ship, a song only the most beautiful of sirens could sing to the most desperate of sailors – and Arthur had been pulled to it from the start.

But his vault dweller didn’t grow angry or scold him like he expected her to; she didn’t challenge his action of bringing jealousy into their sex life like he’d done countless times in the past only for it to start a fight that broke them apart a little more each time. Instead, she just turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder as he kept fucking her, his hips clapping against her ass even as her gaze locked with his, pupils blown.

“That’s it, daddy. C’mon, fuck me harder.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest at the encouragement and his palm came down against her ass cheek in a sharp _smack_ that echoed in the room; the vaultie hissed through her teeth, her head dropping forward as if she was refusing to cry out from the pain.

“You always have to be a fucking flirt, don’t you?” he finally growled, no longer hiding the jealousy that had been stirring deep in his gut; his hips snapped hard against her – but she just laughed. She fucking _laughed;_ and the only defense he had for it was another swat of his hand against her ass, this time on the other cheek, coaxing another hiss from her.

“Yeah, I do.”

The one hand that was still on her shoulder pulled her up to where her back was flush against his chest, his hips grinding against her rather than thrusting. A low curse escaped his lips, however, before his teeth clamped down on her neck, lips sucking on the skin as he held it firmly; he wanted to mark her, to force her to bear the evidence of his existence and ownership just in case anyone even dared to look at her for more than a moment with any amount of interest. She was _his_ and _his alone,_ and Arthur Maxson didn’t fucking share — and he _especially_ didn’t share when it came to Nora.

“Tell me why,” he snarled.

Nora turned her head and looked at him out of the corner of her eye again, her chin tipped upward to do so, but this time there was a wide, mischievous grin spread across her face. “Because I fucking can.”

Arthur was losing his patience.

And he had no comeback for that one, either.

With a disapproving grunt, the Elder shoved her back down, her hands catching onto the footrail again while his own went back to her shoulders. He stopped pulling out as much, however, and instead briefly focused on making quick, short thrusts that repeatedly hit that bundle of nerves deep inside her – if her keening was anything to go by. But his hips soon slowed down significantly, his hands releasing her shoulders and instead sliding to her hips as he fucked her slowly, his knees bending each time he pushed in, body rolling with his thrusts; Nora kept trying to push back against him, too, her hips wiggling in an attempt to convince him to fuck her harder.

“Come on, baby,” she taunted. “Don’t you wanna teach me a lesson about flirting with others? Don’t you wanna make sure I know the only person I’m allowed to flirt with is _you?_ Or do I gotta find someone else who’ll discipline me properly because you’re losing your touch?”

Arthur typically had a lot of control over himself – over his life – as that was something he had to learn at an early age; but when it came to Nora, every ounce of control he had at any point was just immediately wiped away like it never existed and he was forced to start over from scratch. Where taunting him never worked nor bothered him, Nora’s jabs easily did him in and he always ended up giving in to what she wanted; she could have asked him for the fucking moon and he would have found a rope to lasso it down for her if she’d just mocked him first.

And her heckling now was no different.

The vaultie’s torso was shoved forward with his hand between her shoulder blades, her face buried against the mattress and forcing her ass high up in the air as he started pounding into her from behind, giving her exactly what she wanted. “You never know when to shut your fucking mouth, do you?” he growled breathlessly, the creaking of the footrail growing louder with each thrust he made into her, the sound competing with the slapping of his groin against her ass. “Always causing trouble, always – _fuck_ – always pissing me off. I’m starting to think you – _mmm_ – you get off on being insubordinate.” His hand came down on her ass again, this time finally coaxing the appropriate reaction from her – not a hiss, but a loud moan.

“And yet you still – _oh, god, fuck yes_ – you still take me to bed every night and – _shhhhit_ – and every morning, and you still – _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ – you still love me more than anything.”

She was right – he wanted her beside him every morning and night and he loved her more than anything despite how fucking frustrating she was – how goddamn _exhausting_ she was. But he couldn’t admit that, at least not right now. “You’re just lucky your cunt is so addictive, otherwise you’d – _mmm_ – otherwise you’d be out on your ass right now.”

Yet, she laughed at him. Again. And it was _really_ starting to get to him. “Is that why you – _fuck_ – is that why you stuck around for nearly a month even when I wouldn’t – _mmmgodyes_ – when I wouldn’t fuck you? Why you _begged_ to fuck me?”

Arthur had a handful of her hair within a second and was pulling her up to stand, then switched so he was grabbing onto her throat instead as he held her back against his chest, her head leaned onto his shoulder as he spoke low in her ear. “I don’t fucking beg.”

But he knew exactly what she was talking about – the night he gave her the red dress and they sat down to eat deathclaw steaks, when he couldn’t stop staring at her chest and she’d suggested they touch themselves in front of one another. That night, he’d begged to fuck her because he’d wanted her so badly, and he’d initially had no issue with doing it. But maybe that wasn’t the case anymore.

The laugh she let out this time was even louder, though – taunting. _Mocking._ It made his blood boil, fire bubbling in his belly as he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, his hips stilling. “Well, you sure begged to fuck me that night, didn’t you?” she said quietly. “I bet no one ever imagined the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel begging anyone, let alone begging for _pussy.”_

Without even thinking twice about it, Arthur wrapped an arm around her body just beneath her chest and another around her thigh as he lifted her up off the floor, carrying her around the bed and to the side of it, then haphazardly dropping her onto it on her stomach. He was atop her almost immediately, straddling her thighs just beneath her ass – her hips propped up just a little – as he started pushing his cock between her legs, poking and prodding and searching for where he belonged, for that tight heat; but just before she could mock him for _’not finding the hole’_ or some other shit, he found his prize and immediately sank in before he started pounding into her.

And, fuck, this position felt amazing – she was tighter like this with her legs closed and he knew she had to be feeling it, as well, because she was mewling as her hands clenched the sheets beneath her, trying to find purchase anywhere she could as his hips slammed into her from behind. One of his hands reached forward to press against the side of her face, pushing her head down into the bed while he fucked her hard, fingers crooking just slightly at the last knuckles to put more pressure in those spots. 

“I don’t beg, and I _especially_ don’t beg for pussy. You would do well to – _mmmfuck_ – to remember that, particularly the next time you’re – _fuck_ – begging me to fuck you when I’ve left you high and dry for days again.”

“Fuck you,” she snarled, though there was little heat behind it as she was breathless; but she was getting close, he could tell. The hand that wasn’t on the side of her face reached forward, fingers wrapping around the horizontal metal bar of the headboard, using it as leverage to fuck into her harder. But the bed was creaking, the metal hitting the wall as he brutally fucked her, and only then did he realize it had never made this noise before. Shit, he was about to break the bed from fucking her so hard.

Well, they needed a new bedframe, anyway.

Nora let out a growling moan as she reached a hand behind her and grabbed onto the forearm of the hand he had on the side of her face, her fingers resting on the scratch marks she’d gifted him the other night as he choked her when they were fucking.

“Or maybe I’ll just get the lube instead, hm? Leave you whining and throbbing and – _fuck, baby_ – begging me to touch your clit while my fat cock is buried in your tight ass.”

The vaultie was nearly trembling beneath him, her moans loud and breathy as her cunt was pulsing around his cock, threatening to climax. “Oh, god, Arthur. Keep talking, I’m so fucking close.” A grin spread across his face as he licked his lower lip, shifting on his knees a little so he could get more traction with how he was fucking her, allowing himself to thrust harder as he was nearing his own end, as well.

“I might even be nice and let you – _fuck_ – let you shove something up your pussy. Maybe the neck of a bottle or even the – _mmmshit_ – the handle of my knife.” He saw how her eyes tightly closed and her jaw tensed. “But nothing would ever come close to my cock buried in your tight cunt, would it?”

She was so close to that edge, trembling – she begged him to take her _faster, harder, deeper,_ to give her _more, more, more,_ baring her gluttony and lust for everything he could give her, never satisfied because she knew he could give and give and give; she wanted him to leave her utterly wrecked and boneless and sated by the time they were done.

And he intended to do exactly that, impending company be damned.

“Let go, Nora. You know you wanna cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” she screamed, her hands clenching around his wrist and the sheets as her entire body tensed beneath him. “I’m coming, I’m coming, _ohgodI’mcomingohfuckfuckfuckyessss.”_ Arthur kept pounding into her as hard and fast as he could, pulling against the metal bar each time he thrusted as the entire bed creaked and groaned beneath their weight and the movements he made above her. 

“That’s it, baby. Come on. Show me how much you love my thick cock.”

Nora was screaming his name, the word falling from her lips like a fucking prayer being shouted to the skies above and he found himself following her over the edge soon after. But rather than coming inside her like he usually did, the Elder pulled out and forced her to roll onto her back, then quickly moved up her body so he was straddling her chest before he began jerking himself off with his cock right in front of her face.

She must not have realized what was happening until it was too late.

“Arthur, we’re about to have company. Don’t you da—” Her hands shot up to block his spend just as he started coming, but he quickly shoved them out of the way, his cum spurting on her face while she turned her head to likely try to keep it from getting all over the place; luckily for her, it landed mostly on one cheek – which was still a good look, regardless.

“You are such a fucking asshole,” she growled.

While he would normally discipline her for running her mouth, he let it go, instead keeping hold of his dick and wiping up the cum that was on her cheek with the head before he moved toward her mouth with it; she opened up, of course, because she knew her job – sucking his cum off and swallowing as she always knew how to behave when she wanted to, especially when she was sated. There was still a tiny amount of cum left on her but the fact he had her swallowing most of it was what he wanted; and when he scooted down a bit so he could lean down and have their faces close together, his lips pressed gently against hers in a tender kiss.

“You are mine, Nora,” he said quietly. “No matter how much you flirt with other people, you will always be mine. You will always come back to me, into my bed, onto my cock, because you belong to me. Do I make myself clear?”

The vaultie studied his face for a long moment and he worried perhaps he’d finally stepped over the lines, repeating what he’d done in the past by allowing his jealousy to get the better of him, but the smile that crossed her lips just before she leaned up to briefly kiss him allowed him to relax. “I wouldn’t dream of ever being anywhere else, Arthur. I love you.”

He dragged his thumb across her cheek, wiping up the rest of his cum and letting her lick it off the pad. “Good girl. I love you, too,” he purred.

══════════════════

“I can’t believe you’re hosting a goddamn dinner party in our room.”

“Max can.”

“Max is a cat and it will be a _dead_ cat if it does not get its grubby paws _off the table.”_

Nora pursed her lips and picked up the kitten, gently nudging it onto her shoulder just as there was a knock on the bulkhead; she and Max perked up, both turning to look at Arthur at the same time, but he seemed very unenthused about their similar reactions.

“Danse or Kira?” she asked in an attempt to make a bet with him about who would be at the door as their first arrival. “Whoever loses gets tied to the bed tonight during sex.” The look he gave her, however, was one that told her he was displeased with her attempt to bait him into a bet he didn’t like – and she knew he wouldn’t go for it because there was no way in hell he’d risk being the one who got tied to the bed. She just grinned at him, though, and shrugged it off.

When she got to the door and opened it, Paladin Guerrero greeted her from the other side and Nora smiled broadly at the Citadel soldier while the kitten made a small meow in greeting from her shoulder. “Kira, hi! Come in, please,” she said, stepping to the side to allow the paladin access into the room. “Danse isn’t here yet but he should be soon; feel free to sit wherever,” she said as she shut the door.

Arthur nodded to the paladin and Kira returned the greeting. “Thank you for having me, Elder. It will be nice to catch up.”

“It’s my pleasure, really; but please, call me Arthur in here. We’ve known each other for a while, so I think we can set formalities aside.” Just as there was another knock on the door, Arthur sat down in his usual seat, his eyes locking with Nora’s before she bounced over to the bulkhead and swung it open to meet the nervous face of her favorite paladin.

══════════════════

His eyes landed on Nora first before they darted behind her, spotting Kira already at the table; his jaw clenched but the vault dweller in front of him must have noticed it because he watched the slow grin spread across her face just before she spoke.

“Come on in, Danse. We’re about to start eating.” Her tone of voice made him suspicious – something was up. She was acting… strange. Then again, Nora _always_ acted strange, but still. She was up to something.

Danse stepped inside and took a seat across from Kira – to the left of Nora – and gave both Arthur and the other paladin quiet, verbal greetings and head nods. Really, he was too nervous to do anything more than that.

Great. This was going to be great.

No, it wasn’t – he couldn’t even lie to himself with internal sarcasm.

“I hope you two like deathclaw steak and fried tatos because that’s what we’re eating. If not, I can try to find something else,” Nora said as she took her seat to his right. The trays were already set out with covers over them to keep the food warm – granted, the covers were just big bowls, but it worked and kept the heat in.

But as his eyes glanced along the table, he realized the seating arrangements looked a bit too… well, _planned._ Arthur sat in his usual seat – at the end furthest from the door and closest to his desk – with Nora in _her_ usual seat – diagonally you the left of Arthur; but the seat directly across from Nora didn’t have a tray in front of it unlike his and Kira’s.

It was certainly planned that they sat across from each other.

Clever girl.

But as they started eating and before any real conversation had begun, Danse felt the tension in the room spike before he saw or heard what caused it; and only once Arthur had ordered Nora to remove the cat from the table did the paladin turn his head to look, seeing her newfound pet had climbed off her shoulder and onto the furniture, likely with the intention of grabbing a bite to eat. What the hell was she even feeding that thing, anyway? “Cat off the table, Nora.” She didn’t object and instead picked Max up and nudged him back onto her shoulder, but the Elder wasn’t satisfied with that. 

“No. On the floor,” Arthur added; but both men knew the pint-sized vault dweller never went down without a fight, and since she’d brought the cat home, she’d treated it like her own baby – picking it up, cradling it, speaking to it in a baby voice – so when he ordered her to put her furry child on the floor, she and Arthur had a stare down – a glare down? – where the two of them made the room even more tense than it already was.

Chancing a look at Kira, the senior paladin noticed the way she was eyeing Arthur – and he recognized that look on her face because he’d had that same look before in the past when he’d witnessed the way the Elder treated his subs. It was new and something Danse didn’t fully understand – and maybe it wasn’t very healthy, either, and perhaps he was actually in the right to be suspicious of it – but he and Nora had talked about it before and she’d reassured him everything was fine and how that sort of thing was related to their dynamic even though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed her given explanation. But he accepted it for now, nonetheless.

Still, one would think they’d be a little more… well, _cautious_ about how they acted around others, especially people who didn’t know them very well, considering the vibe they gave off – a vibe Nora was made aware of numerous times before after soldiers had come to _him_ with concern about it – and would instead try to be on a little bit of better behavior. But no, of course not; knowing Arthur, he’d exert that control streak even if the room was full of the Elder Council and Nora would continuously push his buttons because that was just what she did.

Which meant Danse and Kira would have to talk about it later and he’d have to explain Arthur and Nora’s weird little dynamic to her so she didn’t think something bad was happening to the vaultie.

Ugh. He was not looking forward to that.

After Nora set the cat on the floor, she turned to the two paladins to her left and acted like the situation between her and Arthur never even happened – and every time she did that, he wondered if she’d learned how to do it after she became a Brotherhood soldier or if that was something she’d learned before the war. Regardless, her words seemed to help change the mood of the room. “So, how long did you two work together, then?”

“Well, we got recruited together and then trained side-by-side until Danse over here decided to leave me behind,” Kira said as she pretended to wipe away a tear away from her eye while looking at him from across the table; but he nearly choked on the piece of deathclaw steak he’d just stuffed in his mouth when she mentioned him _‘leaving her behind.’_

He coughed once, twice into his hand before chewing and swallowing the piece of food, then cleared his throat. “I did not _’leave you behind,’_ Guerrero. I was sent on a mission that was not optional. I enjoyed training with you, and you know that.” Reaching a hand up — the one he _hadn’t_ coughed into — the senior paladin ran his fingers through his hair as he felt himself growing slightly frustrated. Did she really think he left her behind? He advanced through the ranks faster than her – but that wasn’t _his_ fault!

But the hair on the back of his neck stood up when that fine-tuned feeling every soldier had regarding whether they were being watched started to make him alert, the synapses in his brain firing off as he turned his attention to his right, eyes locking with Nora’s before her gaze flicked over to Kira, then back to him, then back to Kira, then back to him again. The vault dweller had a look on her face while she was trying to figure something out as if she was piecing together a puzzle in her head but some pieces were missing or just didn’t fit right or maybe they weren’t even part of the puzzle she was working on.

And then—

“… Were you two dating?” she asked.

That time, Danse nearly choked on his water.

“Dating! Phew, I wish,” Kira began, and he coughed a couple times as he’d almost inhaled a mouthful of the purified liquid. “I’ve sent so many signals his way and he never noticed. I would flirt with him _all the time_ and yet it was like talking to a brick wall.”

Oh, god.

Oh, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

He wanted to leave. Hide. Jump off the ship. And suddenly, he realized how bad Nora must have felt when he’d made her apologize to Arthur the first time that she was aboard the Prydwen because he assumed it felt something similar to this – embarrassing. _Utterly_ embarrassing. And it was only bound to get worse if the wide grin on her face that said she thought she’d hit the jackpot was anything to go by.

The senior paladin hid his face in his hands and groaned, the sound muffled in his palms. “Please don’t tell me this is why you invited us to dinner, Parker.”

“Not initially, no, but I think this is great dinner conversation, don’t you, Kira?” The amusement in her tone nearly made him cringe. Why did she find his suffering so damn funny? Did she not realize how uncomfortable this was for him?

Arthur _finally_ got involved, thankfully, after having remained silent the entire time thus far; the Elder released an irritated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “If you want to talk about Danse and Kira’s dating lives, Nora, perhaps you should have scheduled a dinner just for the both of you because I’m not interested in having this conversation.”

“You’re free to leave if you want, Arthur, but I think this conversation is fine,” the vault dweller said flatly, and he couldn’t help but cringe again. A glance in their direction showed they were staring at one another again, but she wasn’t backing down like she usually did, and Arthur clearly wasn’t happy about it.

And then Kira took the blame. “I’m so sorry, Danse,” she started, catching everyone’s attention. “I thought you knew how I felt and, well, now the cat’s outta the bag and, uhm…” Her eyes fell to her plate of food though she’d barely even touched it; her gaze turned to Arthur after a moment. “I apologize, Arthur, this was just supposed to be a dinner to catch up and I’m over here making things awkward. I’ll leave.”

Danse was quiet again, unsure what to say – it wasn’t really _her_ fault; she didn’t do anything wrong. They hadn’t seen each other in so long that she wouldn’t have known he’d get so uncomfortable because he never got this way in the past, everything having just went over his head back then. But now? Now, he understood when she was flirting with him – he just didn’t know how to handle it or what to do in return.

“No, stay,” Nora called out just as Kira was starting to stand. Both paladins looked over at her then. “Please. I’m sorry, it’s my fault this got awkward and I shouldn’t have said all that. Arthur’s right, let’s just… let’s talk about something else.” It was a relief to hear her admit blame, needless to say, but his face was still tato red. “Besides, this dinner wouldn’t be the same without you.” Of course she was still flirting, though, because why the hell wouldn’t she be?

The tension in Kira’s shoulders seemed to dissolve and she sat back down. “Well, if you say it like that, I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a smile; Nora just grinned in return.

Great. They were _both_ flirting now.

A quick glance to Arthur showed the slight displeasure in his face that he was clearly trying to mask — and failing at it. Oh, so _now_ he noticed.

“Tell us about one of your recent missions back in the Capital Wasteland?”

“Hm, let me see,” the junior paladin thought. “I was leading a group of knights to take out a super mutant camp fairly close to a settlement. There were at least seven that we knew of and had to make sure all of them were dead.” Danse perked up at her story, his eyes zeroing in on her while her own gaze turned directly to him and no one else; she must have noticed his interest. Battle stories, he could do. “We’d already taken out four and the last three were hiding out in a building, so I did what I knew best and told the knights to stand back while I went in myself. Took out my Gatling laser and took the rest of them down.”

“That’s impressive, Guerrero,” he complimented while he was sawing off a piece of his deathclaw steak. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing too bad, maybe a few scrapes,” she answered with a smirk. “I was wearing my power armor like you always told me to do.”

Danse felt a swell of pride in his chest as she said she’d taken to his lessons – and, yeah, he may have puffed his chest out a bit without realizing it; he’d always been driven and ambitious and had risen through the ranks fairly quickly, becoming a paladin before she did despite how they were recruited at the same time. And as she was training for his same rank, he’d been assigned as her mentor, whipping her into shape both physically and mentally. Not that she really even needed to physically—uh, anyway.

A grin was plastered on his face as he finally tore his eyes away from her and down to his food. “I have to admit, I’m proud you took to the training I gave you. We worked hard on it – _you_ worked hard on it.” When his eyes flicked back up to her, she was suddenly the only one in the room with him – Nora and Arthur didn’t even matter at that point, nor the kitten that was scratching and chewing at his boot.

“You were a great mentor, Danse. I took everything you said and made sure I did it right.” When Kira reached across the table and took Danse’s hand in her own, his face flushed a brighter red than ever before, his eyes staring down to where she’d grabbed him. “Thank you for being such an amazing friend and mentor. It’s because of you that I wanted to become a paladin. I wanted to follow in your footsteps.”

When he looked back up at her, he could see how her cheeks were flushed and he imagined her skin would be hot if he reached out to touch her face.

Oh, god. Why was he thinking of doing that? _Stop thinking of doing that._ “That is very flattering, Guerrero. I—”

══════════════════

“Who wants alcohol!?” Nora asked a bit too loudly, cutting Danse’s question off and startling him as she abruptly shoved her chair back, the screech of the legs across the metal floor nearly ringing in his ears as she stood. “Whiskey? Arthur prefers whiskey.” She was moving over to the Elder’s desk where a few bottles of liquor were located. “Danse – bourbon, right? Kira, what do you like? We also have wine and vodka. I grabbed a little bit of everything since I wasn’t sure what you’d like to drink. If you’d prefer, we also have some Nuka-Cola, and I can mix it with something for you.”

The vaultie was already pouring whiskey into a tumbler for Arthur, setting it on the table down by his plate before pouring some bourbon into a tumbler for Danse and taking it to him.

“I’ll take a Nuka-Cola with whiskey, please and thank you, Nora,” Kira answered.

Thank fucking god, because everyone would need a lot of alcohol if Kira and Danse were gonna keep eye fucking each other from across the table and dishing out compliments all fucking night. She probably should have grabbed more liquor—

Wait. Nora couldn’t drink.

Ah, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> question: would it help if I used different dividers for time skips and changing character pov's? I'm not sure if it gets confusing for y'all because I know what's happening when I write it. would it help if I differentiated the dividers depending on what they're separating?
> 
> also — remember, you can come talk to me on twitter or discord. my contact information is in my ao3 profile.


	74. Exhausted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You need to sleep, baby."
> 
> "I can't. I have too much work to do."
> 
> "You're exhausted, Arthur. You have to take a break, even just for a couple hours. I'll still be here, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be a much longer chapter but I wanted to split it.
> 
> y'all deserve this fluff.

Nothing felt righter than when Arthur’s much larger frame was atop hers with his arms caging her in, their bodies so close together that his chest and stomach hair rubbed against her sensitive flesh; she could even feel the muscles in his abdomen shift and flex with every slow thrust of his hips. 

It wasn’t often he took her this gently – not even when he woke up wanting sex, as even that usually ended up turning rougher since he’d become more aware throughout it – and she hardly ever asked him to be so soft with her, but whenever he was, Nora clung to the moments because it meant he was doing it of his own volition and that he _enjoyed_ the intimacy when, at one point, they’d both thought he never would.

Their faces were pressed together, eyes closed, while Arthur was leaning on his forearms and caging her in as her own were wrapped around the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair and holding the brown locks back; a few strands had still gotten loose, however, and fell into their faces but they paid them no mind. Nora’s knees were bent up toward her chest, legs spread open on either side of his waist to accommodate the size of his broad body, while Arthur’s knees were planted on the bed and angled so his body was leaned into her as he slowly thrusted.

“I’m gonna cum,” she breathed against him. The way he was moving into her had his groin rubbing against her clit, providing the perfect amount of friction – combined with how he always managed to hit that bundle of nerves inside her, even if it was nearly teasing right now – that allowed her to slowly climb the ladder toward her climax.

Arthur released a quiet noise from his chest that rumbled into hers before his lips met her own and he pulled her into a deep kiss as he kept up his steady pace. The vaultie’s legs were trembling on either side of his waist and her hands unintentionally gripped his hair as she sought purchase wherever she could just before she tipped over the edge; she spasmed around him as she came, a low moan escaping her against his lips that he immediately devoured and quietly returned from the feeling of her orgasm.

She broke the kiss after a moment, however, and decided to take a risk by softly tugging his hair to pull his head back and to the side – but before he had the chance to react, where he’d likely grow irritated since he didn’t enjoy his hair being pulled and would perhaps even snap at her for it or lose interest in how gentle he was being, her lips were on his throat, pressing gentle kisses along the line where he shaved his beard and up to the edge where it ended by his ear.

Almost immediately, the Elder released a soft moan, and when she was close to his ear, his head about dropped down against her shoulder; and he would have succeeded, too, if it wasn’t for one of her hands moving forward so she could hold it up for him by putting her palm against his hairline. Nora turned her face to be against his, placing soft, loving kisses along his temple and cheek, trailing them back to his ear where she nipped at the lobe before moving a little south; there, she sucked the sensitive skin that was just beneath his ear into her mouth and nibbled on it, wanting to leave a mark but not wanting to bite or suck too hard because it might rile him up to where he’d want to be rougher.

The breathy moan exhaled into her ear told her he was close, and she released the skin she’d sucked into her mouth before speaking quietly to him, her voice just a whisper. “Cum for me, baby.”

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, a sharp exhale leaving his lungs before he moaned again. His thrusts were still slow, but they were faltering, having lost the steady rhythm he’d once had.

“Please, Arthur. Cum inside me.” Nora turned so her lips grazed his cheekbone just as he finally tipped over the edge; his hips pushed flush against hers with a final thrust that was rougher than the rest, forcing her body up the bed a little and coaxing a gasp from her throat. Quickly, the vault dweller cupped his jaw with one hand and turned his face toward her, pressing their lips together so she could devour the moan he was releasing as he came inside her.

Arthur was the one to break the kiss, however, as he pulled away panting, his head lowering so his forehead was now resting against her shoulder while their bodies remained flush together and he stayed hilted. She didn’t mind – she enjoyed it, really – because feeling him go soft inside her while his body was so close to hers was certainly just as intimate as the act of taking her so gently and lovingly. 

Nora slowly stroked along his upper spine, her other hand massaging the back of his neck to try to relieve some of the tension his muscles had accumulated there. She felt him release some of his weight onto her – which was fine, because the man had literally plopped his entire weight onto her chest before despite him being more than twice her size, so she could handle this. But once his breathing calmed, she finally spoke. “You need to sleep, baby.”

It’d been a long and stressful week for nearly everyone aboard the Prydwen and down at the airport, which meant the two of them hadn’t seen as much of each other as they usually did because he’d been so busy with a constant flow of paperwork that he ended up working on with Kells, on top of an increase in soldiers who required his attention, and then the fact that something had went wrong with Liberty Prime.

“I can’t. I have too much work to do.”

Then again, it wasn’t so much as something went wrong as it was that _someone intentionally fucked something up._ No one could explain what happened other than sabotage and it was beyond Nora of what had been screwed with, but apparently someone on the inside intentionally fucked with the giant destroy-everything-in-its-path robot and set the Brotherhood’s goals back by at least a couple weeks – which was bad, considering there were a lot more mouths to feed. That meant Nora had to work out additional trade routes for crops from some of her settlements that she could get to the Prydwen just so Arthur’s soldiers didn’t starve or start stealing from wastelanders.

“You’re exhausted, Arthur. You have to take a break, even just for a couple hours. I’ll still be here, I promise.”

That also meant Nora had to spend a few days at the castle communicating with Preston – and, unfortunately, it meant Arthur didn’t sleep much; but when he did, his night terrors haunted him. By the time she returned to the Prydwen this morning, the Elder was exhausted, just as she knew he’d be, but he kept working and working and working because he had stacks of reports to review as well as having to find out just who had sabotaged Liberty Prime and whether it was an inside job or if someone had snuck into the airport and past their defenses. Both of those options were bad but one of them was worse.

His exhaustion continued to build throughout the day since she’d returned from the castle but he’d been too busy to have sex despite her attempts to seduce him with the sole intention of wearing him out so he would finally nap, but she’d caught him in their room not long ago working on reports and managed to finally get him between the sheets. While she knew she could have convinced him to exert himself and take her roughly, which would certainly wear him out quickly, she also knew she could wear him out by letting him be gentle and lulling him into a nap afterward. Besides, it was intimate, and they both needed it.

The Elder went quiet and she knew he was thinking, considering each option he had and whether it would be truly beneficial if he took a nap or not. She could have told him he wouldn’t be putting out his best work if he wasn’t sleeping well but the man had been working on little to no sleep for years before she’d come along, so that wouldn’t necessarily mean much to him. All she could do was hope he’d trust her advice and listen.

"Okay,” he finally conceded, his voice tired. 

Nora gently kissed his temple before he lifted himself off her, his soft cock slipping free the rest of the way since their hips were still flush together. She could feel his cum leaking out now, but she paid it no mind, knowing it wasn’t the first time his spend had gotten on the bed after he’d fucked her, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. Rolling over, the vaultie laid on her right side rather than her left but Arthur didn’t seem to care as he just laid behind her, wrapping his body and arms around her like usual.

He was out within moments.

══════════════════

Just like when she was pregnant with Shaun, Nora’s morning sickness – if it could even be called that because it was rarely ever _just in the fucking morning_ – came later during her first trimester than she was told it should have. She’d expected it to start happening around her third week of pregnancy and yet she’d only started feeling nauseas during her sixth week; and now, here she was during her _ninth_ week, stuck in the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as she possibly could while puking up her guts.

And it wasn’t morning.

Repeat: it wasn’t fucking morning.

Why call it _morning sickness_ if it didn’t only happen in the morning? Fucking ridiculous.

After she’d finished emptying the contents of her stomach, Nora brushed her teeth and cleaned her face before heading back into the main room – only to see the exact reason she’d tried to keep quiet.

She’d been in the bathroom for about ten minutes, having woken up being held by Arthur like she usually was when they slept, though the Elder remained napping even though she’d slipped out of his hold; he was definitely too exhausted to notice. It was later in the day, around 4pm – _1600, Nora, get your shit together_ – but she figured she’d let him sleep a bit longer.

But something was different.

Arthur wasn’t alone in the bed.

The lights were still on in the room since they hadn’t bothered with turning them off, which meant she could see him clearly. He was still naked, of course, his hips straight and legs laying atop one another; his bottom arm was outstretched where he’d originally had it wrapped under her neck and crossed over her chest, and instead his head rested on his bicep as his hand hung off the edge of the bed. His other arm, however, was bent upward, and that hand was… oh, god. It was curled around a little furball that was cuddling against his upper chest, just beneath his jaw.

Max.

The demonic feline Arthur apparently hated so much.

Nora couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face and she so badly wished she had a prewar camera, not only because she’d take a hell of a lot of pictures of the kitten – yes, she was _that_ type of cat mom – but also because this was a cute fucking moment and Arthur would hate the fact she’d gotten evidence of it, knowing she’d rub it in his face forever, _especially_ when he claimed to hate Max. Which was all the time.

The vaultie approached the bed, peering down at the two and seeing how Max wasn’t only curled between Arthur’s palm and chest, but he was also kneading the Elder – and not just kneading his chest or arm or some other similar area, but _kneading his fucking beard._ His facial hair was still slightly short compared to how he usually had it – his beard grew fairly quickly – but, hell, this had to be the cutest fucking thing she’d ever seen and she thought she was going to explode from how hard she had to hold back her squeal with her palm over her mouth just so she wouldn’t wake them.

But her stomach turned _again_ and she shifted her hand down to her abdomen, teeth grinding together as she tried to resist the urge to throw up – fuck, there wasn’t even anything _to_ throw up anymore.

With one last look to the adorable duo, Nora was quiet during her exit, silently opening and closing the bulkhead behind her, then hurriedly traversing to the medbay to visit Cade just to see if he knew of anything that might help settle her stomach. Of course, she had a feeling the answer was ‘no,’ but it was worth a shot.


	75. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It suddenly made sense why people were more accepting of same-sex relations now than they were before the bombs.

“Knight Parker, what a pleasure to see you.”

“You can call me Nora, you know.”

“Ah… I’d prefer to stay formal, if that’s alright with you,” Cade replied.

Nora shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked. “You haven’t been coming to see me as often as you should. It is vital you do so during the early stages of your pregnancy.”

He wasn’t wrong – Nora had been avoiding him, which probably wasn’t the best idea; but every time she entered the medbay, he’d ask all sorts of invasive questions that made her so goddamn uncomfortable she just wanted to get away as fast as possible. At first, the questions were about her period cycles and family medical history, which she kind of understood considering she was fucking the leader of a military organization and they thought she might end up pregnant, even if that was still invasive and a bit creepy. And when she got pregnant, they just turned even _more_ personal and uncomfortable and weren’t questions she’d ever been asked by a doctor before.

And Cade always tried to ask her more whenever she went to see him for whatever reason, so Nora just started avoiding the medbay at all costs, even though that was probably a horrible idea.

And even now, she ignored his comment. “My morning sickness started recently, I guess, or maybe I’m just not feeling well. I dunno. But I was wondering if there’s anything that can help settle my stomach.”

Cade hummed in thought before answering. “I’m afraid there isn’t anything medication-wise, but you could drink some razorgrain broth and that might help. As you know, if it _is_ morning sickness, there’s not a whole lot you can do to change that. But any mess hall officer should be able to whip up razorgrain broth for you whenever you need it.”

Nora sighed and nodded her head. “Yeah, I figured. I was just hoping there was _something_ that might have been discovered or whatever between when the world ended and now.”

The medic lightly chuckled. “Well, if you happen to find anything, please let me know. But while you’re here—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she groaned with clear irritation. “Let’s just get it over with. Arthur’s sleeping and I don’t want to disturb him so just… ask away,” she said with defeat, moving to sit in one of the nearby chairs.

Cade grinned triumphantly before grabbing a clipboard and pen from behind his desk – as well as a holotape and holorecorder – and then sat in the chair across from her. The holorecorder was set on a small side table that was next to them, the blank tape put inside. “Now, I know you said you weren’t fond of some of the questions, but as you are pregnant with Elder Maxson’s child, they are necessary.”

“Uh huh.” At this point, she just assumed either Cade was some nosy as fuck creep who kept documents on her for his own personal use or he was hiding something regarding all the invasive questions – or maybe both, probably both – but Arthur wasn’t around to save her from having to answer them and she’d already said she would. Besides, she didn’t want to wake the poor Elder up by going back into the room, so she might as well just get it over with.

The ‘record’ button was pressed with a soft _click._

“This is Knight-Captain Cade, registration CD-440KC. Please introduce yourself.”

Nora pursed her lips before giving an irritated sigh. This definitely reminded her of when she had to log three times per day during her trip with Danse into the Glowing Sea. That really sucked, but at least she could torture the paladin by making a joke out of everything; but she couldn’t do that here. “Knight Nora Parker, registration, uh…” She went quiet for a second, eyes narrowing as she stared at the wall in thought – what the hell was her registration number? Did she even get one?

“It’s on your holotags,” Cade said quietly.

“Oh. Right.” The vaultie reached into the collar of her shirt and pulled out her tags, the _clinking_ loud in the small room. “Registration PR-127K.”

“Very good. Now, Knight Parker,” the medic began as Nora shoved her holotags back in her shirt, “We’ve went over your family medical history and whether you had any complications during your pregnancy with your first child, so now I’d like to ask about what other medical issues you may have been diagnosed with outside of your pregnancy and before you were frozen.”

Oh. Shit.

Nora had quite a few medical disorders when it came to mental health, nearly all of them related to trauma, so Cade asking for anything she was diagnosed with outside of her pregnancy and before the bombs would have included those – and she really didn’t want to share that information. Hell, she hadn’t even told _Arthur_ about her long list of diagnoses, afraid of how he would react to the bullet points that listed each broken aspect of her mind and life, and she _certainly_ didn’t want to tell Cade. That was none of his fucking business.

“Cade, I don’t—I don’t feel comfortable going into that. Is it really necessary?”

“I assure you this information is confidential and inaccessible to anyone who is not of the appropriate rank.”

Well, that was a load of shit, because the man kept his terminal unlocked – she’d literally seen his diagnoses of numerous soldiers, including Danse. There was no doubt in her mind that anyone else would be able to waltz right into the medbay and see her information, as well.

“What do you want? Like, a list?”

“That would be fine, yes. Just a list of what diagnoses you’d received by medical professionals before the bombs that were unrelated to your pregnancy.”

Nah, fuck that. He wasn’t getting all that. Some of her disorders were more apparent than others and many of them overlapped in symptoms, so she could easily get away with significantly shortening the list to just one disorder she had that encompassed nearly everything else to some extent or another. “PTSD.”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Cade clarified for the holorecorder as he scribbled something on the paper attached to the clipboard he’d grabbed. He nodded his head as he did, seemingly having no idea she’d left out numerous other medical conditions – and she was thankful for that. At least until he asked another related question. “And why were you diagnosed with PTSD?”

Her jaw tensed. “Childhood trauma.” 

More scribbles. She was beginning to hate the noise – it was giving her fucking anxiety; her right leg was starting to bounce.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask questions about her childhood trauma and instead moved on. “The next set of questions is regarding your, ah, pregnancies and sex life overall, so these may be uncomfortable for you. Since you’re birthing a child sired by an Elder of the Brotherhood, and especially sired by a Maxson, it is important as much information is documented about its mother.”

Well, that sounded like a load of shit. “I don’t see how intimate information about my sex life is necessary.”

“I understand your hesitation, but please know I am only doing my job,” he said calmly; she fell silent. “First – have you ever had a miscarriage.”

Would have been easier if Shaun had died in the womb. “No.”

“Have you ever had an abortion?”

Fuck, if only. “No.”

He nodded his head, seeming satisfied with both answers while scribbling on his paper. She wanted to break that fucking pen. “How many people have you had sex with during your life, including before you were frozen?”

_Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore._

Nora was brought back to the first time her mother called her a whore – she was eleven, but she’d understood what the word meant because she’d heard it used when her parent spoke of their neighbors or of any other woman she didn’t like, shaming them for having sex even if they weren’t. By fifteen, she’d lost her virginity to her at-the-time boyfriend, but he broke up with her soon after and spread it around the school how easy it was to get her on her back, which meant that same word was frequently thrown in her face at school and at home. Throughout high school, she’d slept with a handful of people, and then shortly after graduating, she met Nate; and the only people she’d slept with after being unfrozen were Arthur and MacCready.

“Ten.”

Cade’s eyebrows raised as he scribbled something down and her face flushed a bright red at the judgmental reaction. Fuck, she wanted to hide. 

_Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore._

“And since you’ve been unfrozen?”

The question was a trap and she knew this. The medic was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer he knew would disappoint him and whoever else would read her information just so he could plaster another judgmental expression on his face. Nora bit the bullet. “Two.”

He gave a slight shake of his head while writing it down and she felt her face growing even hotter.

_Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore._

Perhaps he was right to be judgmental of her – there was no contraceptives or ways to practice safe sex in the wasteland, which meant risks of pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases were fairly high. If she slept around – or slept with anyone at all without the intention of getting pregnant, really – then she was putting not only herself at risk, but her partner. And putting the great Elder Arthur Maxson at risk was just unacceptable.

It suddenly made sense why people were more accepting of same-sex relations now than they were before the bombs.

“I know one of them was Elder Maxson, but were you sleeping with the second person at the same time as him?”

Their gazes locked and it was at that point tears were welling in her eyes from embarrassment, a few slipping down her cheeks as her face scrunched up just slightly – but his expression never softened because her reaction gave him the answer to the question he asked. 

But the recorder was still rolling.

“Knight Parker, I need an answer, please. For the record.”

“Cade—”

“Please,” he repeated, “For the record.”

Nora closed her eyes tightly as she released a shaky breath, sniffling while a few more tears streamed down her freckled cheeks. “Yeah. At first.”

“And is there a possibility the unborn child is not Elder Maxson’s?”

Her eyes opened again, and they zeroed in on him. “No. It’s his.”

“You are sure of this?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” she snapped. A cocktail of anxiety and anger was flowing through her veins and her brain was telling her to _retreat, retreat, retreat._ But she just stayed where she was.

“Very well. And the final question – was Elder Maxson aware you were sleeping with someone else at the same time you were sleeping with him?”

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

It was another trap – but this one was more severe. If she said Arthur didn’t know she was fucking MacCready at the same time as him, then she was painted as the whore who was, essentially, cheating on the Elder in the beginning of their relationship despite there not actually being relationship. And at the same time, he was painted as the oblivious leader who was tactically aware in battle but not in his own personal and private life.

But if she’d said yes, Arthur was portrayed as weak and someone who let his lovers roam and sleep around without care to what sort of diseases might be brought back to him.

It was a lose-lose situation, specifically for Arthur.

Fuck.

“I think we’re done here, Cade.”

══════════════════

The mess officer had, in fact, made some razorgrain broth – and it wasn’t bad, really. Nora took her time drinking it in private, allowing it to help settle her stomach while she calmed her nerves after leaving the medbay, so by the time she was heading back to the room, her belly wasn’t threatening to upchuck its contents and she wasn’t on the verge of having an anxiety attack that would send her on a downward spiral.

She was quiet when she entered, unsure if Arthur was still sleeping or not, so she tried to make as little noise as possible just in case she risked waking him. But when she turned around to face the room, that anxiety returned and tremored in her bones as she wasn’t sure what she’d walked into at first. The table was knocked onto its side while the chairs that were usually neatly tucked beneath it were overturned, the desk chair was atop the bed like it’d been thrown there, and the nightstand was knocked over with its contents spilled onto the floor.

She could see Max hiding beneath Arthur’s desk, cowering, and the sudden feeling of dread sank in all at once.

Her first thought was that someone had snuck into the room while Arthur was sleeping – perhaps the same someone who had sabotaged Liberty Prime – and tried to hurt or kill him. That there had been a struggle and Arthur was lying injured or dead somewhere that she hadn’t seen yet, like on the other side of the overturned table or in the bathroom. But before she could try to figure out how to handle the situation she was presented with, her back was roughly shoved against the bulkhead and Arthur’s forearm was pushed against her chest, his other hand at her mouth with his thumb on one side and four fingers on the other. 

The vaultie’s eyes grew wide as her hands clutched his wrist and forearm, nails digging into his flesh as if to try to bring him back from wherever he was. Arthur’s gaze looked panicked, his eyes darting back and forth, not looking _at_ her but rather _through_ her as his eyes never looked at her own but instead everywhere else on her face.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he growled.

“Arthur—” His hand squeezed over her mouth, muffling the sound she made as she tried to say his name.

“You left for a reason and you should have never come back.”

She made another noise against his palm, strangled.

“I should kill you right here and now for your betrayal. For leaving us. For leaving _me.”_ The hand on her mouth released and instead went to her throat, squeezing enough to constrict her breathing a little just before he started _lifting_ her up the wall, sliding her upward so her feet were no longer touching the ground and she was brought to his eye level – correcting an entire foot of height difference. 

She could barely fucking breathe.

Keeping her right hand on his wrist, her left shot forward, fingers and nails digging into his face, scratching and breaking the skin near the large scar on his right cheek; the Elder didn’t budge, however, but instead pressed her harder into the door with his forearm, and she felt like her chest was about to cave in.

“Arthur—” she croaked, grabbing at his arm again with both hands. But that was when he started talking to someone – it wasn’t to her, that she knew, because he was _responding,_ as if his episode included the voice of a person from his past in his head. It was fucking terrifying.

_”No,”_ he snarled, “It was not my fault she died. I was just a _child.”_

“Arthur, I—I can’t—” Her voice was weak, breathless, and she felt her vision fading, the black slowly taking over from the edges. She made another attempt with scratching at his face, crooking her fingers as she swiped her nails against his left cheek, breaking the skin on that side, as well, and leaving behind long scratches that seeped blood down into his beard; but he remained unfazed.

“Do you think I don’t _regret_ my actions that led to her death!?”

His hand was grasping her throat too tight and she knew she’d pass out soon if he didn’t release her; but Arthur was too strong – and there was only one way she knew of that would get him to stop.

Fuck.

Nora had gained a lot of leg muscle while running around the Commonwealth, so when she shoved her leg forward and connected her shin right between his thighs, she knew it fucking hurt – the man was still naked, after all, having likely woken up and gone straight into an episode.

The noise that came from him was one of extreme pain and he immediately released her, falling to his knees while she collapsed on the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Arthur’s hands were between his legs as he fell to his back, rolling onto his side as he groaned in pain, and Nora immediately felt horrible for having struck him; but when he was strangling her and not responding, she had no choice but to defend herself. She’d kicked him fairly hard and not even Arthur Maxson could withstand a swift kick to the balls.

“Arthur,” she choked out after having regained herself a little, her eyes darting over to him. She could only see his back since he’d rolled away from her, his body curling in on itself. She knew better than to touch him while he was unstable and unpredictable, and any time Nate had an episode – though they were rare – she had to be careful around him, as well. 

The Elder’s breathing was ragged, and she watched as he tried to calm it down. “Arthur,” she tried again, and that seemed to get a reaction. His breathing turned shaky, his exhales sounding like he was—oh, fuck. Nora crawled closer to him, moving around his legs while being sure not to make any physical contact, even on accident. “Baby,” she whispered quietly.

“Nora,” he breathed.

“It’s okay. You’re safe,” she reassured him. “You’re not in any danger. I’m here, baby.”

“I hurt you.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t mean to.”

“I could have killed you.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“Yes, I would have.”

Nora’s stomach turned and her eyes dropped to the floor, brows furrowing as she went quiet. He was right – if she hadn’t stopped him by knocking him out of his episode, he probably would have killed her. And considering Arthur was a soldier, he was trained to kill and could have easily done so. He could have suffocated her or snapped her neck without even realizing who he had within his hands.

“Can I touch you?” she asked quietly, her eyes returning to him.

The Elder shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t, baby. You’re okay, I promise. You’re safe, I’m safe; it’s over. It’s just spiking because things have gotten more stressful lately. That’s all.” When he nodded after a moment, giving her approval that she could touch him, her hand gently went to his calf, slowly stroking his skin to help calm him down. “I have a friend who I want you to talk to. She has… some prewar knowledge about PTSD and I think she might be able to help.”

When he didn’t respond, her eyes dropped to where his hands were still between his legs and she bit her bottom lip, the sudden worry of just how much damage she’d done to him overtaking her. “Let me see, Arthur.”

He hesitated but spread his legs and removed his hands.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gotta even out that fluff with angst. not sorry.
> 
> updated and better pictures of Nora [here](https://imgur.com/a/XrgNsdx)


	76. Ferals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please be safe, Arthur. Please come back to me. I don’t want to lose another—” Nora cut herself off, brows furrowing while her eyes flicked back and forth between his own, “—I don’t want to lose _you.”_

The feeling of bliss blossomed from his core, shooting through his veins in an almost icy flow that made him tremble. He felt his heart begin to race and his breathing speed up as white-hot pleasure spread through him, turning the icy flow into a liquid fire that burned his veins to a crisp – and he was awoken.

But that feeling never ceased and he found his back arching as a particularly hard suck was made to the head of his cock. He released a low moan before looking down, his eyes coming into contact with a pair that were only a few shades darker than his own as their owner was between his legs, his cock stuffed in her mouth in probably one of the sexiest wake-up calls he’d ever received.

Arthur spread his legs more, knees bending out to the sides to provide her with as much room as she’d want between them even though she wouldn’t actually need much; his head fell back, one hand reaching up to run his fingers through his hair while his other arm went flat on the bed. It was early, he could tell, because the alarm clock hadn’t sounded off yet, which meant Nora either hadn’t really slept yet or had woken up throughout the night for whatever reason and decided she wanted to please him.

He was a bit groggy but aware, and she was gentle in her touches despite how she needn’t be anymore – he’d already healed up days ago, the swelling and bruising between his legs having gone away within a few hours after using a couple stimpacks. Cade had checked to make sure nothing was dislocated or torn or seriously damaged, and once that was ensured, he took it easy, iced the injured area – which was _not_ pleasant and he was disinclined to do so, but Nora _insisted_ and even held the ice pack against him _herself_ – and waited to heal up. And he’d healed well and felt fine soon enough, but even now she was trying to be gentle as her hand provided support for his sac by resting it along the webbing between her thumb and index finger; her other hand was wrapped around his shaft, stroking what she didn’t have in her mouth though she was slowly taking more and more of him as she began to bob her head.

Nora swirled her tongue along the underside of his cock, as well as over the soft top of the head. She knew what he liked and what he hated – and while he normally enjoyed some teeth, where she’d scrape them along his shaft and give him a sensation that sent pinpricks up and down his spine, she avoided doing it now and instead was all soft touches while she tenderly sucked.

He couldn’t complain, really.

“Fuck, Nora,” he breathed, his hips lightly flexing toward her face as she took more of him in. The hand that was wrapped around his cock released him and instead splayed on his pelvic area, slowly sliding up to his abdomen where her fingers threaded into the hair on his stomach. She bobbed her head, swallowing around him when he was pushed to the back of her throat, and Arthur was beginning to feel that familiar heat coiling in his belly and at the base of his spine, warning him he was getting close to tipping over the edge – how long had she been sucking his cock before he’d even woken up?

But while he’d love nothing more than to spill in her mouth and make her show him his seed covering her tongue, only for her to tell him how much she loved the taste of it just before she swallowed it down, he wanted to fuck her even more.

“Nora,” he growled, and the vaultie hummed around him while slowing the bobbing of her head. Those blue eyes looked up at him just as he looked down to meet hers. “On your stomach. Now,” he ordered. She pulled back slowly – so fucking slowly – off his cock until it slipped from her mouth with a _pop_ and fell heavily against his stomach; but his vault dweller wasn’t done, because of course she wasn’t, as she leaned down and dragged the flat of her tongue up his length, starting just above his balls until she reached the head.

A grin spread over her face before she finally pulled away, moving beside him to lay on her stomach, folding her arms beneath her head while her ass was slightly pushed into the air – face turned toward him, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. But Arthur didn’t wait around and was on top of her quickly, straddling her thighs just beneath her ass and grinding against the curve of it. His hands went to her waist, fingers digging in as he used them for leverage to hold himself up, his torso leaned over and close to her back but not touching.

Yet, Nora didn’t seem to appreciate his grinding for long, because she was wiggling her ass against him impatiently. “Come on, baby,” she whined.

The Elder grunted before leaning back and taking hold of himself, shifting his thighs open more so she could spread her legs a little, as well, making it easier for him to push in. He went slow, easing in and out, letting her close her legs as he went back to straddling them and holding onto her waist. While easing in, he leaned forward again, his hips doing a steady back-and-forth until he was flush against her ass where he remained still so she could adjust.

Soft kisses were pressed to the back of her shoulder until he bit down gently, sucking the skin into his mouth and holding long enough that she’d bruise even though it wouldn’t be very dark.

“Okay,” she whispered, giving him the go ahead, and he made a soft noise against her shoulder blade before sliding his hips back and then forward. It was more grinding than thrusting, but it worked for him as he felt the meat of her ass move with each flex of his hips while his cock slid in and out of her. With his hands on her waist, he pressed her further into the bed each time he pushed forward, letting her back up some whenever he pulled back; his face was soon resting against the side of hers as she’d turned her head just enough to look at him.

“Harder.”

Well, it _was_ a slow and steady grind, but she wanted it harder – who was he to deny her that request?

Arthur began thrusting rougher, coaxing gasps and moans from her that only egged him on. He lowered his front half to where he was resting on his forearms above her while Nora reached up and back, threading her fingers into his hair; his chin was on her shoulder, face turned and pressed into the side of hers as he fucked her, thrusting hard, back bowing and arching with each movement of his hips, repeatedly grinding them against her roughly.

“Arthur,” she moaned, her voice breathless.

He was likely hitting that bundle of nerves inside her from this position, but he was still wound up from when she’d been sucking his dick that he probably wasn’t going to hold out long enough to make her cum on just his cock alone. Still, he kept going, fucking her as hard as he could from the way they were lying while he panted in her ear.

“Come on, baby. Fuck me.”

The Elder let out a low moan and dropped his head a little so his mouth was against her shoulder again, teeth clamping down onto her soft skin in a rough bite that he knew would bruise nicely. Nora groaned loudly and Arthur found himself releasing, then biting another spot nearby, repeating the action over and over so he was marking the backs of her shoulders again and again as the heat in his belly and at the base of his spine continued to rapidly grow.

“Fuck, Nora, you feel so fucking good,” he growled after releasing her from one of his bites. He’d been holding onto her forearms, squeezing tightly, but one hand released and instead went back to her hip, clapping down on the skin just beside where his own body connected with hers; Nora yelped from it, but Arthur just returned to where he’d been holding her moments before. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

 _”Yes,”_ she hissed. “Fill me up. Cum inside me, daddy.”

That name – that _fucking_ name – had him tipping over the edge almost immediately. He thrusted into her three more times, the final being much harder before he finally hilted himself as he came. The moan that escaped his throat was breathy and close to her ear, entirely unintentional, but _fuck_ if she didn’t respond to him with one of her own.

“Jesus, Arthur, you always sound so fucking sexy when you cum.”

He was panting, his lips pressing soft kisses to the side of her neck as he remained atop her, slowly going soft; from the angle they were at, he’d slip out of her soon enough. She hadn’t cum, he knew that – he knew what it felt like when she came undone around him, when her cunt pulsed around his cock from her climax – and so he had every intention of correcting that before they went back to sleep.

Arthur rolled them over, moving so he was beneath her, but she was still on her back, now laying against his chest. One hand wrapped around her throat while the other slid down between her legs, his fingers rubbing quick, rough circles on her clit. Nora immediately gasped from the friction and spread her legs wide, hooking them on the outside of his as he bent his knees. Cum was leaking from her pussy and he could feel it dripping down onto his soft cock and balls; part of him wanted to reach down and push it back in, to stuff her full of his spend, but he also wanted to make her climax – he preferred getting her off. And it wasn’t long before she was trembling, her moans breathy as her hands gripped his wrist and arm.

“Look how much you shake just from me touching your clit,” he said quietly into her ear. “It’s so easy to make you cum, pet. Why is that?”

“Because—because you always know how to – _fuck_ – how to touch me.”

“Mm. I do. And I bet you like the fact I’m so much bigger than you, don’t you?”

“Oh, god. Yes, I fucking love it.”

“Yeah, you love how I can overpower you, how I’m twice your size. How my cock is too thick to shove into your tight pussy right away because you’re so fucking small.” She was on the brink; he could feel it. “Come on, little girl. Cum for me; cum for your da—”

_Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang._

Nora tipped over the edge just as someone banged on the door, though Arthur’s attention immediately diverted to the bulkhead even as she came. His fingers stilled momentarily but that didn’t stop her from _keening,_ and he had to quickly remove his hand from her throat and instead cover her mouth with his palm. “Shh, shh, shh,” he whispered into her ear just as he continued to rub her clit, helping her ride her orgasm out.

_Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang._

“What?” he called to whomever was disturbing them. Nora squirmed atop him as she was starting to grow sensitive, but he kept going even when she grabbed his wrists to try to pull them away from her and even when she closed her legs around his hand. 

“Elder Maxson, there’s an emergency down at the airport.” It was Kells; his voice sounded panicked – not something Arthur had heard often from his lancer-captain. “Ferals – tons of them. There are injuries and deaths. Your presence is needed.”

The vaultie was thrown off him immediately, her body shoved to the side as he quickly climbed off the bed and went to the door. There was a sharp shriek from the kitten when he got about halfway there, having stepped on its tail; he stumbled away from it with an unintentionally mumbled apology before reaching the bulkhead where he pulled it open just enough to peer out at his second-in-command.

“How many casualties?” Arthur asked.

“Unknown. A vertibird is bringing up the first group of injured soldiers right now. I’ve sent Paladin Danse and Paladin Guerrero down to help clear the ghouls out but we’re unsure where they came from.”

The Elder cursed beneath his breath before looking to Nora. “Get dressed,” he ordered, and she was on her feet immediately, grabbing her clothes; Arthur then gave Kells one last look before stepping away from the door, leaving it open just slightly. The lancer-captain took the hint and stepped inside but turned around right away to where his back was facing them, eyes on the now-closed bulkhead.

While Kells had seen Arthur naked plenty of times – to be fair, nearly all the officers had seen Arthur naked at some point because the man had no shame – Nora didn’t feel any discomfort with him in the room while she dressed, either. He was always respectful and turned his back to them, just like he had every time before when they rushed to dress during an emergency.

Then again, it wasn’t like she really had a choice.

“Keep guards on the main deck and flight deck. Send Proctor Ingram with a squad to deal with any technical difficulties with turrets. If Knight-Captain Cade hasn’t been alerted, do so immediately after you leave here, and retrieve some scribes to assist in the medbay as best they can. Send Proctor Quinlan to the medbay to start documenting injuries and deaths, as well. Make him useful.”

“Of course, Elder Maxson. Is that all?”

Arthur glanced over to Nora as she was putting on her bra and he moved behind her, clasping it for her just before he started pulling his flightsuit up and over his shoulders, then moving toward where he kept Final Judgment. “Take Parker to Proctor Teagan to help with distribution of weapons and armor.”

Nora spun around at that, pulling her shirt down over her head in the process. “What? No. No, no, no. Not Teagan. Send me to Cade or even to the airport – just not Teagan.”

He turned to look at her then, eyebrows furrowed as he studied her face for a long moment. There was panic in her voice – a type of panic he didn’t entirely recognize. Her jaw was tense and her eyes slightly wide, hands balled into fists at her sides; but he kept searching her face for an answer to why she reacted in such a way. “You’re going to Teagan, Nora, and that’s the end of i—”

“I could use her help, sir,” Kells said, cutting him off.

Arthur didn’t look away from her, but Nora nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll do that. I’d rather do that. Please, Arthur.”

It was still concerning, but he had no time to continue worrying about it now. “Very well,” he grunted with a wave of his hand – but Nora was on him in an instant, wrapping her arms around his neck as she stood on her tiptoes, lips pressing against his in a deep kiss. Of course, he kissed her back, one hand going to the back of her neck to cradle her head as the other arm wrapped around her waist.

Nora slid her hands to his jaw, cupping it, her fingers threading into his beard; and when the kiss broke, their eyes met while her gaze was pleading. “Please be safe, Arthur. Please come back to me. I don’t want to lose another—” the vaultie cut herself off, brows furrowing while her eyes flicked back and forth between his own, “—I don’t want to lose _you.”_

Leaning down, he pressed their foreheads together. “I will be back, love. I promise,” he whispered before turning his head to kiss one of her palms. “Now, go help Kells. I have to get down to the airport.”

══════════════════

The fight was taking too long – how many fucking ghouls were down there!? She could see the red beams of lasers from the flight deck as they were shot through the dark and straight toward where she presumed the ghouls were at, but there was so much going on she really couldn’t be sure. 

It was more dangerous than usual and that made her worry even more; friendly fire was always a concern, but it had to be an even bigger one now because there were no lights. All the lights that had lit up the airport were now turned off though Kells didn’t seem to know why, and the only things lighting the area down there were the headlamps from the multiple suits of power armor. Fuck, even the turrets were off. _Something_ had happened – _someone_ had done something.

Arthur was down there, though, in the middle of it all, and the only thing she could even think about was how he might end up injured or dead. He needed to come back to her – he _had_ to. She couldn’t lose someone else; she couldn’t lose another person she loved. Shaun was right when he’d said Arthur was her replacement-replacement family, but if she’d lost him? What did she have left? The Brotherhood would take their baby because of its father’s bloodline and she’d be left with nothing but two dead men she loved and two stolen children. 

Nora couldn’t survive that.

“Parker!”

Kells’ voice brought her out of her head as he stood in the doorway that led inside from the flight deck. She turned her attention to him, only just now realizing how windy it was outside by how his coat was blowing against his left leg.

“Get off the flight deck. We’ve got another ‘bird coming in.”

Her face flushed and she ducked her head before quickly moving inside, getting out of the way. The Prydwen was hectic and it was making her anxiety run rampant; she didn’t really know what to do with herself. Kells didn’t actually have anything for her but apparently only heard the panic in her voice when she was about to get sent to Teagan, so he took some sort of pity on her and then told her to stay out of the way once they were alone. She might have volunteered to help out somewhere if she thought she was capable of even doing anything well enough to not get in the way – but she knew she wasn’t. 

She was fucking useless.

Hell, she couldn’t even survive out in the wasteland on her own during a regular day; she’d almost ended up dying within the first three fucking hours of getting out of the vault. And she would have, too, if it weren’t for Preston. Oh, and Dogmeat. She was saved by a fucking dog. And a robot. Because Nora was fucking useless.

How did someone like Arthur ever even fall for someone like her? He was so independent and strong and capable and a _leader_ and she was just… the complete _opposite_ of all those things. Fuck, he was down there right now fighting alongside his soldiers and what was she doing? Climbing the ladder to the main deck to hide in their room because that was where she could best stay out of the way.

Fucking useless.

When she opened the bulkhead, Max sprinted out and ran straight into Danse’s room, slipping through the open door with a slight hiss.

“Max, what the hell?” she grumbled, but let the kitten go. He was probably scared shitless because of all the commotion, so if he found comfort in the paladin’s quarters, then so be it. He and Danse had been bonding lately, strangely enough, despite how Danse also conveniently ‘hated cats,’ though that clearly was not the case. 

Nora sighed, realizing not even her _cat_ wanted to be with her – how fucking useless was she if she couldn’t even comfort the goddamn cat? – as she moved into the room, shutting the door behind her.

But a sudden and sharp pain blossomed across her face before everything went black.

══════════════════

Ferals poured out of somewhere – but no one could figure out where, just that there were so damn many of them and they _kept coming._ There were dead bodies strewn all over the ground, soldiers and ghouls alike, and plenty of Brotherhood were injured; those who had severe injures – such as shrapnel penetration – were sent to vertibirds that transferred them to the Prydwen to see Cade, while other less severe injuries were treated at the airport in a more secure location.

Arthur was in his power armor, Final Judgment gripped tightly in metal-clad hands as he tore down ghoul after ghoul. There seemed to be significantly less of them now, thankfully, which meant the fight would be over soon and they could assess the damages regarding casualties, as well as where the ghouls came from—

“Elder Maxson!”

His attention was diverted to an initiate who was sprinting up to him, laser rifle in hand, though the boy was out of breath. “What is it?” Arthur hissed. “Don’t you see we’re in the middle of a fight? You should be shooting ghouls, not—”

“It—It’s Knight Parker. She’s—”

“She’s _what!?_ Spit it out!”

“Something happened. She’s been hurt. You need to—”

Icy panic shot through his veins and Arthur was moving before the initiate even finished speaking, sprinting as fast as he could in his bulky power armor while carrying such a heavy weapon – but he wasn’t moving fast enough.

Fuck it.

Dropping Final Judgment without care and with a loud _clatter_ as it hit the concrete – something he would have scolded Nora for doing, undoubtedly – he pushed the internal release in his power armor, nearly tumbling out of it before he started sprinting toward the vertibird again, soon climbing into it and screaming at the lancer to _’take me to the fucking Prydwen, now!’_ with the initiate on his heels.

Only once they were in the air with that sold two-minute flight from the ground to the ship did the full feeling of dread set in.

“How bad is it?” he asked the initiate, trying to keep his breathing calm. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“It’s—It’s bad. I don’t know any other details. I’m sorry.”

As much as he wanted to berate and pummel the boy for bringing him minimal information about something so important, he knew it wasn’t the kid’s fault – he was an initiate, far down the chain of command, and if Nora was hurt on the _ship_ – fuck. There were so many possibilities as to how it happened.

She could have accidentally hurt herself, or even _intentionally_ hurt herself if she was left alone while panicking. That was one of the reasons he wanted to send her to Teagan – there would be a constant flow of soldiers going back and forth so it would be a steady stream of work, things to keep her busy during all the commotion until he returned. But if she was left by herself while having anxiety, he knew how she could get. It wasn’t good.

But what if _someone else_ hurt her? If someone hurt her intentionally, they would either have done it to hurt _her_ or to hurt _him._ And then there was the question of _why_ did they want to hurt one of them? What was the cause of this intention to hurt? At this point, however, it didn’t matter, because once he found out who’d hurt Nora, he’d skin them alive. 

Arthur was not a brutal man but he could certainly become one – and this? This was one of the few ways to make him into a true monster, because he would hunt down whoever hurt her and they’d regret ever thinking about it, let alone doing it.

As soon as they docked, he was moving inside and up the ladder, heading straight for the medbay. He’d passed up numerous people who’d tried to speak to him but brushed them off, holding his hand up to make them pause, ignoring their words because he had one goal in mind – Nora. Nothing else mattered at this point. Even if the Prydwen was going down in flames, he was going to get Nora first or he’d go down with it.

The moment he stepped into the doorway of the medbay, the world slowed down and it felt as if time had stopped.

Arthur wasn’t sure what to expect when he saw her.

Not this, though.

Certainly not this.

He stared at her from across the room as she laid on one of the hospital beds, her body limp and mind unconscious. Was she breathing? Was she even _alive?_ There was blood on her face and neck, much of it blending in with the red and purple swelling around her eyes, nose, cheeks, and mouth; it looked like someone had just taken a fucking metal baseball bat to her face, and that was only what he could see from a _distance._

“No,” he whispered; his feet were moving before he actually felt it happening. “No, no, no, no, no. No, fuck. Oh, god. Oh, fuck, Nora.” When he was at her side, he reached out and went to touch her face but stopped, his hand hovering just over her jaw before he pulled away. There was bruising _everywhere_ – would he hurt her if he touched her?

What the fuck happened?

And where the _fuck_ was the goddamn medic?

“Elder Maxson,” a voice said from behind him; it was calm, irrationally so in this situation, and from that fact alone he would have known it was Cade. The older man moved to the other side of Nora’s bed and there was an apologetic expression on his face, one Arthur could read. “We don’t know what happened. She was found like this in your quarters.”

“In my—what? Why? Where is Kells? She was _supposed_ to be with Kells!” Now that he was closer to Nora, he could see the more detailed wounds better. Blood was dried and stained from her right nostril, her nose was likely broken, there was a split in the right side of her top lip, both eyes were nearly swollen shut – but the fact she was unconscious worried him the most. “How—how bad is this? Can you…?” The question trailed off.

“It’s… bad. She received blunt force trauma to the head, and I believe there is bleeding. I could give her a stimpack and that would heal the bleeding area, but the blood itself will remain pressurized on her brain until something relieves it. I—I do not have the tools to handle this, Arthur. I’m sorry.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of him, as if he’d been shoved straight into the wall and pinned by the arm of Liberty Prime itself. He could see its glowing eyes staring down at him, its robotic voice cackling at his misfortune and at how he’d clawed his way to freedom, to happiness, to _love;_ and yet, he still ended up at the bottom.

As he stared down at the woman who’d changed him in just the short time she’d been in his life, who’d made such a strong and positive impact on him, who’d made him _fall in love with her,_ he suddenly felt scared. No, not scared – _terrified._ And not just for himself, either, but for her and their unborn child.

And now, he was at a complete loss of what to do.

The Brotherhood wasn’t prepared for this – _especially_ not the Prydwen – they didn’t have the necessary medical equipment to handle this sort of situation. In the wasteland, man either survived or didn’t survive; if he had a chronic condition or became extremely impaired, he was likely left to his own devices and, more often than not, died. It was unfair and it was unfortunate, but it was the apocalypse.

Arthur had learned to accept that.

He’d learned to accept the realities of life in a harsh world where his father died on the battlefield, where his mother passed from disease, where Sarah Lyons was killed because of his foolish actions. And once he became an Elder, he was forced to accept that soldiers would die under his command and that sometimes there was nothing that could be done about it. Sometimes, people just fucking died. It was ugly and brutal and unfortunate, and it was the fucking apocalypse.

“No.”

But accept that, he could no longer.

Arthur leaned down and picked Nora up into his arms, holding her against his chest bridal-style – a way he’d expected to hold her at some point in the future but now feared that future would never come – and carried her out of the medbay, toward the descending ladder.

“Elder Maxson, where are you—”

Without any care for himself, he dropped down from the main deck to the observation deck, ignoring the sharp splinter-like pain that shot up his ankles and shins when he landed and instead tried balancing as he stood up fully. After regaining himself, he was quick to move toward the bulkhead that led to the flight deck, kicking the metal with his foot a few times until one of the knights outside opened it, looking at him with a quizzically; but without even explaining himself or giving them more than a second glance, he pushed past and darted straight for a vertibird, climbing into it with Nora’s unconscious body still in his arms.

“Take me somewhere away from the airport,” he said to the lancer. “I don’t care where, just somewhere safe.” The man seemed confused at first but dislodged the vertibird from the Prydwen regardless, and Arthur found himself sitting on the metal floor, cradling his fragile vault dweller in his lap and brushing her hair from her face despite how it was caked against her skin from dried blood.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered as his body slightly rocked back and forth – but whether he was doing it to comfort the unconscious woman in his lap or himself, he had no idea. “I’ll fix this, I swear. And I’ll find out who hurt you and fucking skin them alive. I will burn the entire fucking Commonwealth to the ground if I have to, I promise you that.”

The flight felt like it took forever before they finally landed somewhere, but with how dark it was outside, as well as the fact it started to rain – because of course it did – he struggled to recognize the area at first; once they got closer, however, he realized the lancer had taken them to Spectacle Island. The place was cleared of danger a while back as Nora and Danse took it upon themselves to remove the mirelurks, though Nora hadn’t set up a settlement yet because she said the house needed to be fixed up first. It looked like there was plenty of progress being made on it, but still no people.

They would be alone.

The moment the vertibird landed, Arthur stood with Nora in his arms and carried her out of it, moving away – noting how the lancer didn’t leave – and getting to his knees in the muddy grass while holding his vault dweller in his lap. He gently lifted her arm, flipping through the map on her pip-boy while raindrops distorted its screen as he was searching for something – _anything_ – that would show him where it was.

“Come on. Come on, come on, come on,” he growled, but there was nothing. No hint to tell him where to find the location he sought; nothing in her notes, either.

Fuck.

There was only one last thing to do.

 _“Shaun!”_ he yelled, his eyes upturning to the sky like he was speaking to some gruff god who might be watching, ready to strike him down. “She needs you! I can’t—I can’t help her. Please.”

Arthur wasn’t sure what he expected, really, but there was no reply. There was no booming voice, no synths appearing out of nowhere, no voice that sounded out over her pip-boy. Nothing.

And yet, he still tried again.

“Come on, you fucking _bastard!”_ he roared, his tone having changed from pleading to threatening; dangerous. “Your mother is dying! Do you really want to let her go? Do you really want to let her die, knowing you could have helped save her? Stop being a fucking coward and _help her!”_

A blinding flash of light shot from the heavens before him as if lightning had struck right in front of where he sat on his knees with Nora still in his lap. He raised one hand, blocking his eyes from its brightness; and once it went away, he slowly dropped his arm, squinting, only to find someone stood in its place. A man – no, a _courser_ – in a black trench coat and black sunglasses stood before him; the synth cocked its head at the two of them, its chin tipped down just slightly as it looked at Nora before it spoke.

“Would you like me to kill Elder Maxson and bring her home, Father?” There was a pause; Arthur’s heart dropped. “I see. As you wish.”

The flash of light appeared again, but it was much brighter and broader this time as it engulfed the three of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to let everyone know, my work was being plagiarized by the account Shadowlover6 and put into their fic called “Worlds Colliding.” they deleted their fic after being publicly called out for it (this was after speaking to them in private, them being manipulative, me filing an ao3 report and not hearing back, etc.) but I lost a bit of motivation during the time that was happening. it’s extremely disappointing to know my hard work was being taken without my consent.
> 
> don’t plagiarize, folks. don’t steal. unless it’s from like Walmart or some shit, then have at it, I don’t give a fuck. the Walton's deserve that shit.


	77. Procedure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur could feel rage burning in his gut and he wanted nothing more than to explode; he wanted to beat Shaun until the man was dead. He wanted to bash Shaun’s fucking face in for everything he’d done to the Commonwealth and everything he intended to do – but more than anything, he wanted to tear the old, dying man apart, piece by piece, for how he’d hurt Nora. For how he’d hurt his own fucking mother.

It felt like he was floating in a vast ocean of nothingness. Everything was light and airy, his body weight was zero, and the atmosphere just swirled around him carelessly. He couldn’t actually feel anything, which was a strange sensation — no pain, no hunger, no dread over what was to come. And his sight? There was no light or dark, it was just... empty. Blank, like he was truly _blind._

But within a second, everything returned to normal.

The room was entirely too bright, wherever he’d appeared. He was still on his knees, Nora’s unconscious body in his lap, but his jumpsuit was no longer wet from the rain and he wasn’t kneeling down in mud anymore, either. When he came to his senses and his eyes began to adjust, Arthur blinked rapidly before lifting his gaze to the one in front of him – the courser. It wasn’t a synth he recognized, but then again, he wasn’t sure how many third-generation synths he’d even come into contact with, anyway, let alone coursers. Hopefully not many.

The synth stared down at them, its head cocked just slightly to the side again, but this time it was looking at _him,_ specifically, instead of Nora. Arthur stared back, his breathing slightly heavy as it came through his nose, huffing. “She’s—” his voice cracked; he cleared his throat. “She’s dying. She was hit in the head and—”

“Come with me,” it said in a tone that was so neutral and emotionless, it nearly made him shudder; he suddenly realized what Nora had meant when she’d said they creeped her out. While he’d thought he didn’t feel any emotions after he’d locked them away due to childhood trauma and before his vault dweller entered his life, at least he was able to fake them in his voice when necessary – but this thing? This… _abomination?_ It didn’t even _try._

The Elder stood up, cradling Nora in his arms and tightly against his chest as he followed the synth to a nearby elevator. It took them up quite a few floors until they reached one with a room that contained a tiny, empty cell-looking area with toys in it that almost felt like an observation spot, then straight into a bedroom after it. In there stood a man who he could only assume was Shaun, Nora’s son.

He looked like his mother to some extent, but it wasn’t by much. Shaun was quite a bit taller, likely having inherited Nate’s height – just a few inches shorter than Arthur, really. The older man’s eyes were hazel, more green than brown, and his hair gray; and the only features that confirmed to Arthur that the man before him was, in fact, Shaun Parker, were the freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks. Otherwise, Maxson never would have guessed.

But the man was also sickly-looking, his body thin and frail, cheeks sunken in and skin even paler than his mother’s. He looked unhealthy, and it was only then the Elder remembered how Nora said Shaun was ill and dying and wanted her to take over the Institute in his place like some sort of backward inheritance.

“Oh, mother,” Shaun whispered as he slowly moved closer, using a cane to wobble his way to them. Arthur remained still, stuck in place as he cautiously watched the elderly man approach as if he might suddenly use that cane to attack; the Director reached a hand out and tenderly touched Nora’s face, studying the bruising that plagued her skin before he released a sigh. “X6-88, please take my mother down to see Dr. Volkert right away. Elder Maxson and I have a lot to discuss. We will be down there shortly.”

“I’m going with her,” Arthur snapped. “If you think I’m about to let any of your people operate on her without my presence, you’re more foolish than I thought.”

“I assure you that she will be treated with the best care and utmost respect. X6-88 will remain with her until the operation is complete.”

But Arthur hesitated, looking over to the one called X6 – he was putting a lot of trust into a synth and a man who’d _created_ these abominations. Trusting they wouldn’t hurt her or hurt their baby, though it was more likely they’d hurt the baby than hurt Nora herself. Then again… what other choice did he have? If he didn’t trust them, he would lose the woman he loved and his unborn child – and time was running short.

Clenching his jaw, he finally turned and allowed the synth to take Nora from his arms. “If anything happens to her, I will personally find you and make you regret ever letting harm come to her, _synth.”_ he hissed in warning.

The corner of the abomination’s mouth twitched before it nodded its head once and then quickly turned to carry Nora off, presumably to wherever Dr. Volkert was. After it disappeared, Arthur turned his attention back to Shaun, who was now sitting at a desk chair, his back to the Elder while he was staring at the screen of his terminal.

“Please, Elder Maxson. Make yourself at home,” he said.

Home? _Home?_ This place would never be a home to him – it was filled with machines that were never meant to be created; machines that were ticking bombs, ready to be set off and destroy what was left of mankind; abominations that plagued the Commonwealth, trying to take over what little was left of it. And while he cursed this place as never being home – never _deserving_ if being called home – he moved over to one of the nearby couches, taking a seat and leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees.

There was a silence between the two men as Shaun was on his terminal. Arthur normally appreciated silence, using it to think things through and regroup when necessary, and considering his mind was bogged down and focused solely on Nora, Nora, Nora, he would have gladly utilized the silence given to him. But the slow _tap, tap, tapping_ on the terminal’s keyboard was nearly echoing in his ears and it made him want to charge across the room to break the damn thing. He had to stop it one way or another. 

“Was it you?” he asked.

Shaun paused at the question and turned in his chair. There was clear confusion on his face – did he inherit that from his mother? The strong facial expressions? – as he stared at Arthur. “Was what me?”

“The ferals. Nora being injured. Was it you?”

“Ah… no, it was not. I had heard about the attack at the airport but nothing too detailed.”

Strangely enough, Arthur almost believed the man. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” he asked.

The Director cocked his head a little. “Why would I hurt my own mother and then answer your call to save her?”

It was… a valid point. Mostly. “Perhaps _that_ part wasn’t your doing.”

Shaun sighed. “Elder Maxson, why do you think I haven’t attacked your ship? Or why I didn’t attack it before you had reinforcements? And, yes, I know about those.”

“Because you would lose,” the Elder answered simply. His forces were strong and capable, and he knew his soldiers could hold their own assault and defense. But the way the question was phrased…

“No, I would not,” the older man said a bit too sharply. “It’s because I do not want my mother harmed and an attack on the airport or your ship would do just that – put her in harms way. She does not often leave your ship, and when she does, even killing you would do harm to her. I am aware of her mental state and I know how she would respond to your death; that is not something I want thrust upon her.”

Arthur scratched at his beard in frustration and irritation, trying to think. Nevermind the fact Shaun thought his forces were stronger than the Brotherhood – they were not – Arthur just needed to find out who was responsible for the attack. But if it wasn’t the Institute, then who? 

“I must admit, however, that releasing the ferals from beneath the airport was a tactical move,” Shaun added.

Beneath the airport – that’s where they came from. Shit. He’d had the building locked up tight rather than cleaned out, and from what he knew, the ghouls were all deep inside and nowhere near the single entrance, anyway.

But of course, the Institute Director wasn’t done. “You took a huge risk in bringing her here, especially with the way you did it. Does she really mean that much to you?”

Maxson’s eyes flicked up to Nora’s son, brows furrowing. Was she not supposed to mean something to him? Was he supposed to be using her for sex? Was she just supposed to be another sub like originally intended? “Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because you’re young and idealistic. You were born and raised Brotherhood with their ideals ingrained into your very being, and I am aware of what your childhood trauma resulted in. And while my mother may seem inclined to go along with what you offer her now, that may not be the case forever.”

The topics were getting jumbled together, pushed out one after another, and after so much shit had happened in such a short time since he’d been awake, it was giving him a goddamn headache. All he could focus on was that very last sentence. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m assuming she told you I was dying and that I want her to take over my position as Director of the Institute when I pass?”

Arthur ground his teeth together at the memory; it was infuriating, especially with how Shaun had gone about it. Nora was torn apart for weeks because of this man. “Yes, she did.”

“And I’m also assuming she told you she turned the offer down and that she’d never even consider it?”

“Of course. Nora would never work for the Institute, even as its Director. This place has wounded the Commonwealth for far too long.”

“Well,” Shaun began, an eerie smile tugging at his lips, “Then she lied to you, Elder Maxson, because she never actually gave me an answer yet.”

Arthur flubbed, his mouth opening and closing as he stared at Shaun, unsure of how to even reply to that. The man had to be lying – there was no way he was telling the truth. Nora had told him she wouldn’t even consider it, that she was _appalled_ to even be offered that position. And he took her at her word! But if she’d never actually declined it… “No, I don’t believe you,” he replied with a shake of his head. “She’d never—she’d never take over this place. That’s not her.”

“And what, exactly, do you know about her? What do you know about _Nora Parker?”_ There was a pregnant pause as the two men stared at one another, but Shaun seemed pleased with the results. “You see, Elder Maxson, you’ve known her for, what, five months now? Six? And what do you really even _know_ about her? What do you know about her past and present? What do you know about her fears – her _true fears,_ not just her anxieties?”

Arthur could feel rage burning in his gut and he wanted nothing more than to explode; he wanted to beat Shaun until the man was dead. He wanted to bash Shaun’s fucking face in for everything he’d done to the Commonwealth and everything he intended to do – but more than anything, he wanted to tear the old, dying man apart, piece by piece, for how he’d hurt Nora. For how he’d hurt his own fucking mother.

“You say this like _you_ know her any better than I do,” he growled. “You watched her remain frozen in a fucking vault for _decades_ and never did a damn thing about it until you needed her to take over your place.”

“Ah. There it is. I was right about you, you know,” Shaun said; his cane was standing straight up, both hands on the curved top as he remained sitting in his chair, now facing the Elder. “You’re just a boy playing soldier in a blimp – a boy playing _king_ in a bouncy castle. Angry, impatient, petulant. And yet, you were _programmed_ to want a family even though you’re just a child yourself, and so you impregnated the first woman willing to throw everything about herself at you to get just that. Now, you think she will stick around because she has nowhere else to go, but you’re wrong. When she finds out—” he paused and coughed a few times, “—When she finds out you won’t be able to stop your child from becoming a soldier, stop them from living the same childhood you lived, from turning out just like you, from likely dying at an early age just like you will—oh, wait, have you not told her that, either?”

Arthur’s entire body tensed up and he tried to convince himself to say something – _anything_ – but nothing came out. It was as if he’d lost his voice, or someone had stolen it.

“Have you not told her how early Maxson’s tend to die?” Shaun asked. “Well, assuming you live to be as old as most of the others of your bloodline, you still have about… what, twenty years left, give or take a few, isn’t that right?”

The older man was antagonizing him, throwing everything in his face at once, and he was _letting_ it happen. How did Shaun even know all these things? These private things he and Nora had spoken about – the private things he hadn’t told her but should have, as well? Fuck, he should have told her about his family line dying early like it was some sort of curse. Roger Maxson lived to be fairly old, as did John Maxson, but the others who were of his line – his father, Jonathan; Roger Maxson’s son, Roger Maxson, Jr.; Jeremy Maxson; and plenty of others – they all either died at, around, or before the age of 40. Some in battle, some from disease, some from something else. But it was a curse.

Arthur had already lived half his life if he was to follow the footsteps of the majority of his family, basically.

And he’d never told Nora about it. Fuck.

“What about the problems with childbirth in the wasteland, Elder Maxson?” Shaun asked, bringing Arthur out of his own head; the question made his stomach twist and turn. “And I don’t mean the lack of medical care – because she is more than welcome to give birth here, although I doubt you’d allow that. But I mean how common miscarriages are, how common stillbirths are, and how children just… don’t survive very long. Did you prepare her for that?”

He didn’t, and Shaun knew that. God, what was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he spoken to her about all this? Why had he fucked up so badly?

“I didn’t think so.” The words were quiet. Conquering. Announcing victory into silence.

Arthur rubbed his face with his hands as he sighed, an awkward silence hanging in the air and leaving a tension more bitter than any mutfruit he’d ever tasted. Still, he was fine with sitting in the quiet because the less he spoke with Shaun, the better.

But the Institute Director was not about to let that happen for long.

“So, Elder Maxson,” he began, and Arthur nearly cringed at the sound of the older man’s voice, “Tell me – what are your plans for the Institute should the Brotherhood win the war?”

The question was unexpected, really, as it was a complete change of topic, and he raised his eyes to Shaun, seeing how the elderly man was staring him down from across the room. There was a look on his face – one Arthur didn’t quite recognize and certainly couldn’t read, but it said _something,_ and it was frustrating. “Why would I tell you my plans?”

“Because I’m curious how you intend to deal with my faction once all is said and done. If you win this war, what would you do with the Institute and all this technology? Will you utilize it? Destroy it?”

“Destroy it. There is no reason to keep this place intact when all it has done is create chaos for the people of the Commonwealth.”

“I see. And you plan to do that with Liberty Prime, yes?”

Arthur _bristled._ Liberty Prime was no longer a secret now that the giant robot was out of the garage and built, so it made sense that Shaun knew, but it worried him just what else the older man might have discovered. 

He needed to get out of here. Now. “I would like to go see Nora,” he growled.

“X6-88 will retrieve us when Dr. Volkert is finished.”

“Then I will find her myself,” Maxson said, pushing himself to his feet.

“Elder Maxson, before you go – a hypothetical, if you will,” Shaun started; Arthur paused, his jaw set. “What do you think would happen if you welcomed me onto your ship and I were to walk around the Prydwen in my Institute clothing, yet you had not told your soldiers of my welcomed presence? Especially when they know I am the _Director_ of the Institute? Please, enlighten me.”

He already knew where this was going. “You would be killed on the spot.”

“Precisely. Now, reverse those roles and realize none of my staff are aware you have been welcomed into their home.”

Arthur sat back down and ran his fingers through his beard. Shaun seemed to show him mercy, however, and allowed them to sit in another awkward silence. He wasn’t entirely sure how long it lasted, but by the time the courser returned to them, Arthur had grown antsy and anxious, and seeing the fucking synth was a _relief._ He immediately got to his feet as X6-88 stopped in the doorway.

“The procedure has been completed. Dr. Volkert will see you both now,” it said, that tone flat and emotionless still.

Arthur followed Shaun and ended up in some area near a set of spiral stairs with rooms down a thin hallway, though it didn’t look anything like a medbay. They were greeted by Dr. Volkert – a man who was probably around Shaun’s age with grey hair and a hell of a widow’s peak – who decided not to give the Elder the time of day.

“Director, pleasure to see you,” Volkert said; he looked at Arthur, gave him a once over, but said nothing more and instead returned his attention to Shaun. “Your mother is doing well. I was able to easily remove the pressurized blood on her brain and she is resting now. I also gave her some specialized stimpacks to help her heal faster, so she should be back to her normal self by midday.”

Shaun nodded his head. “Very good, Dr. Volkert. Excellent work. I thank you—”

“What about the baby?” Arthur interrupted. “Nora is just over two months pregnant. Is the baby okay?”

Volkert’s eyes turned to him again, giving another look over that was full of judgment, something he easily recognized because he’d seen it all before – but if the man didn’t answer the goddamn question, he’d have it beaten out of him.

“They’re fine,” Volkert said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Relief washed over Maxson. They were fine. Nora and the baby were fine. There was nothing to worry about – well, of course there was, because his girlfriend just had an emergency procedure, but other than that, everything was fine. Right?

“When can I see her?”

“You may see her now. She’s awake.”

“Take me to her. Please.”

Volkert gestured down the narrow hallway, leading Arthur into the room Nora was in – _her_ room, as he was informed, because Shaun had given her a personal room when she’d first entered the Institute, apparently – but he felt himself growing more and more anxious with each step during the short distance. He’d never felt so anxious before with the feeling of dread seeping from his pores, filling the entire building and clogging the noses of everyone around him.

But the moment he was sent around the corner in her room, only to see her sitting up in her bed, his chest tightened. Those blue eyes met his and a wide grin spread across her face – but it was different from her usual grin. It was spacey. Sleepy. _Drugged._

And the bruising she’d once had was nearly gone.

“Arthurrrr—” she slurred. “Babyyyyyy.”

He was at her side immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed as his hands cupped her jaw, eyes inspecting her for damage. What had they done? What did they need to do to help her? Was she truly alright now?

“I’m fiiine, cutie,” she purred. “Or, should I say, _you’re_ fine.” A snort at her own joke followed before she turned her face into one of his hands and nuzzled his palm.

Volkert cleared his throat from the doorway but Nora paid him no mind, though Arthur turned to look. “We had to give her some med-x to help her relax for the procedure. She has a, ah, unique reaction to it. Not like any of my other patients,” he admitted.

Arthur only realized what the man meant when Nora started licking the pad of his thumb.

Ah. Alright, then.

He pulled his hands away from her face, but she caught one of them as he returned his attention to the doctor.

“She has a closed-up incision on the top of her head from where we had to drill a couple holes into her skull to drain the buildup of blood and help release the pressure. She’ll receive another stimpack in about two hours, but I would like her to remain here until she’s fully healed up, just in case.”

The Elder nodded, pulling his thumb out of Nora’s mouth now because she’d managed to drag his hand up to her face again and start sucking on it without him realizing it. “Stop it,” he quietly scolded, but she just lazily grinned at him. “Is there anything I should be aware of while we wait? Any side effects or symptoms?” he asked, looking back at Volkert.

“Oh. Are you—are you staying?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, _doooooc,_ why wouldn’t he?” Nora sassed.

“I just assumed you might have other—” but Volkert stopped, clearing his throat. “I will leave the stimpack with you, then,” he said before setting it on the bedside table, then moving back to the door. “If you require anything, X6-88 will be, ah, _oh_ —” The doctor’s eyes grew wide and then tightly closed as he turned his head away.

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed just before he looked back to Nora – who was now _pulling her shirt off,_ albeit very clumsily as it was stuck on her head. “Damnit, Nora, _stop it,"_ he growled, tugging it back down.

She whined but Volkert just stuttered over his words quickly, wanting to leave. “X6-88 will be outside if you need anything. Otherwise I—I will be back periodically to, uh, to check on how—how she’s doing. Ah… that—that will be all, thank you,” he said before quickly bolting from the room.

Maxson shook his head and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, trying to rid himself of the headache that was just growing worse and worse.

“Now that we’re aloooone,” Nora drawled, her hand reaching up and grabbing at his suit tactlessly, “We can _do the dirty;_ and by _’do the dirty’_ I mean _do the sex.”_

“Nora, we are not having sex while you’re drugged up,” he said, batting her hands away as she kept trying to tug at his suit and then at his beard.

“Who said anything about sex?”

“You did. Just now.”

The vault dweller paused, lips pursed and eyes narrowed while she stared off to the side as she seemed to try to recollect what she’d just said before she realized she had, in fact, tried to proposition him. “Oh.”

Arthur rolled his eyes before shifting so he could lean back against the headboard of the bed, pulling her between his legs and into his lap so his chest was flush with her back. She nestled into him, though of course she tried to wiggle her ass against his groin at first until she realized he was ignoring the action – his cock, though, not so much. But she wasn’t about to get anything from him while she was drugged up.

Her breathing evened out soon enough and it allowed him to relax, his head resting back against the wall behind him as his arms wrapped around her, hands going to her stomach and possessively holding onto where he knew she’d swell in the coming months because of the careless mistake they’d made. But mistake or not, he didn’t care – she was fine, she was alive, and so was their baby.

It was nice to lay there and hold her knowing she was safe even if they were in enemy territory; so long as she was with him, he’d sacrifice himself just to make sure she lived – to make sure she survived. Besides, the Institute posed no threat to her; her son was the Director, after all, and while Arthur didn’t trust the man worth anything, he strangely believed him when he said killing the Elder was counterproductive. At least for now.

Maxson found himself drifting off, dreaming of a future with Nora and their family. How many children would they have? What would their names be? How far apart in ages would they be? If he was honest, he was fine with never having children so long as he was able to _be with her._ Maxson Dynasty be damned – all he wanted was Nora fucking Parker.

She kept him sane in some fucked up kind of way by taking the control he’d had over his life and tearing it up into little tiny pieces right in front of him, only to give it back in the shape of something else – something new. And while he was still learning what, exactly, this new shape was, he couldn’t help but eagerly accept it and cradle it against his chest. Cherish it.

“Arthur?” Nora whispered, breaking the silence and tugging him out of his dozing state.

“Hm?”

“Do you have a boner?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. There was no point in lying – she’d made him hard when she started sucking his thumb and it only got worse from there on out. She’d be able to feel it pressing into her back, anyway.

“Can I touch it?”

“No.”

“Oh… okay.”


	78. Serve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please, Arthur. Just… just let me—let me take care of you, okay? It helps me and I know it helps you, too.”

At one point, perhaps some once upon a time, Arthur Maxson had complete control over his life.

He’d been in a place he understood well and knew what he was doing; he was the Elder of the east coast chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, having been a strong soldier and an even stronger leader who was respected and looked up to by his people. Maxson was capable of making sound decisions that were tactically advantageous and, at the same time, was known for his ability to negotiate with people outside his faction to come to agreements that benefitted all. And, despite being unmarried, he had a steady sex life that provided him with plenty of relief without having attachments, keeping his stress levels down.

Some of those things he’d grown skilled at from his time at the Citadel as a child – such as how he’d learned the mechanics of war like the paths of veins on the back of his hand, all because he was raised among soldiers, as well as having been trained to always remain ten steps ahead of everyone around him. He’d understood keen observation was sometimes the difference between life and death and that knowing the strong and weak points of enemies and allies alike was a necessary evil. And, despite his timid nature as a child, he became a charismatic leader, as the politeness and decency he’d been taught from a very young age – combined with what he took away from watching both Owyn and Sarah Lyons speak to their soldiers, as well as when he sat in on meetings held by the Elder Council – led to his talents rapidly developing, especially after the Lyons’ deaths.

And as Arthur gained a sense of himself, he also gained a sense of control over his life.

The person he’d given his virginity to – a scribe, when he first turned sixteen, just before he was conscripted as Elder – helped him learn his place as a Dom. They’d fucked a few times before she asked him to be rougher with her, eventually wanting him to slap her around, choke her, _degrade_ her – and once he realized that was something he enjoyed, it was like a lightbulb flicking on above his head, as if this detail was slotting itself into his life like the perfect piece to his incomplete puzzle.

And once the scribe explained that sort of dynamic to him, it all just started to make sense; Arthur was immediately onboard.

Being a Dom gave him complete control over not just himself, but also another person and that, alone, helped him gain a sense of who he was – and when adding in the fact he had control over the situation, too, it felt good. Satisfying. _Fitting._

But even with those skills and that sense of control between the sheets, there was a small, quiet voice in the back of his mind that told him he didn’t actually have complete control over his life – that he only _thought_ he did.

He tried not to think about it, really; tried not to even believe it, too, but the more he heard that voice, no matter how small it was – especially after _she_ entered his life – the more he dwelled on the possibility it was telling the truth.

Maxson’s sex life throughout his time as a Dom had been steady, and it was good, but, admittedly, it wasn’t entirely _satisfying._ He’d been fine with the way things were for the most part – having a sub for a while until they grew too attached and wanted more than he could give them, so he had to cut them off. That was typically why he preferred taking subs who weren’t under his direct command since it prevented awkward encounters after, but, then again, he didn’t have much of a choice when he was aboard the Prydwen. And cutting off relations with a sub never made him _feel good,_ either, because he knew it was likely to hurt them; though he also knew that even if he _wanted_ to return those feelings they offered and craved, he never had the capability of doing so.

And then there was also the fact of the Elder Council wanting him to find a wife soon and how they kept pushing and pushing and pushing, and would continue to do so, until he finally accepted their offer to either send him a list of women to consider or to just arrange a marriage for him. And maybe, after a while, he would have accepted an arranged marriage to get it over with just so they’d have their damned Maxson heir, but it only told him he’d continue hurting whatever subs he took.

Though, there were certainly nights he’d wished his bed had a warm body lying beside him that wouldn’t leave once he was done providing aftercare. And even with that want, none of the subs he’d had in the past were ones he’d desired to pursue anything more with than just sex – none up until Nora, at least.

Then again, that just confirmed he didn’t have control, didn’t it? And maybe he never really did.

Because along came this small vault dweller who infiltrated his life as if she were some sort of parasite, slowly leeching every ounce of control straight from his fingertips like the two of them were playing some fucked up game of tug-o-war that he wasn’t even aware he was a part of. His end was getting pulled to hers while he gradually slid closer and closer toward the mud pit in the middle, ignorant of his inevitable fall – until she’d successfully taken every amount of control he had while she made sure he didn’t topple off the edge in the process. Only then did she tear up his control – right in front of his fucking face – before wondergluing it back together in a shape he didn’t even recognize, then handed it right back to him like everything was fine.

But what made no sense was how, when she gave it that new shape and returned it to him, she’d somehow given him more control over his life than he’d initially had, even though everything was so fucking chaotic.

And now, here he was, still trying to figure everything out because he _still_ had no fucking idea what any of it meant.

“I love you,” she whispered, and his eyes closed as he tightened his hold around her body, pulling her closer against him.

“I love you, too.”

They’d left the Institute as quickly as possible after Dr. Volkert had checked on her one last time to make sure she was still doing well, that the incision had healed up, and that her cognitive functions were mostly alright – other than the small piece of memory she was missing, specifically of when she was attacked. Thankfully, they’d managed to avoid speaking to Shaun again before they left as Arthur did _not_ want to deal with Nora’s elderly son again. Not yet.

But rather than going straight back to the Prydwen, they went to the castle, instead; Arthur contacted his ship from there via radio and spoke to Kells, communicating with his second-in-command to ensure everything was under control now and informing him they’d be back by nightfall. Needless to say, the lancer-captain was furious, but Arthur…

Well.

Arthur was lost.

Not literally, no. But figuratively.

He didn’t really know what to do.

Or, perhaps, he was _at a loss,_ instead.

Maxson had abandoned his soldiers – his entire _ship_ – in the middle of a fight where someone had either betrayed or infiltrated them, doing so after he was informed Nora was injured and dying because Cade couldn’t help her. He’d panicked and did the only thing he knew that might save her and, rather than waiting around or even explaining himself to anyone, just picked her up, leaving without a word.

He’d abandoned his post.

The Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel abandoned his fucking post.

It was desertion at best, treason at worst – assuming the lancer reported back what he saw.

Fuck.

And even still, he couldn’t go back. Not yet.

Nora had walked him around the castle, hand-in-hand, showing him some of the new artillery installments that were made since the last time he’d been there – it was quite a while, really – before they retreated to her quarters. Everything inside was still just the way he remembered it, but then again, she didn’t really use her room here, anyway, since she mostly stayed aboard the Prydwen with him, so she wouldn’t have had any time to change things around.

But as he sat there with her in his lap, their bodies close, he realized that even while she was with him almost all the time, he was still unable to protect her. He’d failed her and their unborn child by doing his job – by being an _Elder._

And they weren’t even fucking married.

Suddenly, the promise he’d made to protect them – the one she’d nearly _begged_ him to make as he fucked her in the shower after she’d said she needed him – meant nothing. He’d promised he’d never let anyone harm her or the baby and yet, _in their own fucking bedroom,_ she was injured and nearly killed.

He’d failed her.

Goddamnit, _he’d fucking failed her._

Shaun was right, wasn’t he?

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t.”

Arthur tightly shut his eyes as his jaw tensed, his face pressing against the side of hers a bit more firmly.

“You don’t—you didn’t do anything wrong,” Nora quietly continued before pushing herself away from him just enough to make eye contact.

They’d found themselves sitting in a chair at the table in her quarters rather than lying on the bed, her body in his lap and legs on either side of his as she faced him. Neither of them had bothered to remove their clothes or anything like they usually did when they were this close – instead, he just wanted to hold her, to know she was still with him. To feel her heart beating against his chest.

“I shouldn’t have left you—”

“Don’t blame yourself. Please,” she whispered. “Just—only one of us can do that sort of thing, not both of us, and I already called dibs. Okay?”

Delicate hands tenderly stroked his chest as she studied his face, but worry was written all over hers, clear as day, though he didn’t really understand why _she_ was worried – _he_ was the one who should have felt that way. She’d been badly injured, after all.

“You’ve been extremely stressed out lately, Arthur,” she started, seemingly noticing his confusion, “And I’m afraid you might have another episode if you don’t relax. You’ve… never had episodes around me until recently, you know.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. He’d barely ever had episodes in the past, too, as most of his PTSD symptoms just stuck within the night terrors that plagued him and barely allowed him to sleep – and whenever he _did_ sleep, he woke up gasping for breath, sweating, and occasionally screaming. The last _real_ episode he’d had before Nora came around was probably when he was seventeen years old, but Danse had been there to help; other than that, he’d managed to keep them under control, for the most part.

The buildup of stress lately had certainly gotten to him, though, and it wasn’t just from the Institute – although that was a significant part of it – but also from Nora entering his life and the pregnancy, as well as her basically changing everything he thought to be true. It wasn’t all a bad sort of stress, not necessarily, since some of it was just stress from change – but it was still stress, regardless.

And now, he’d had two episodes very close together, one of them involving almost killing his best friend, the other coming even closer to killing his girlfriend.

It was bad.

So, she was right – he needed to find a way to relax or it was only going to get worse.

“I don’t—I don’t know how,” he sighed. “I should have just gone back to the Prydwen.”

“They have it under control; they don’t need you all the time, baby. Burying yourself in work isn’t taking it easy. You have to actually relax.” Her hand slowly slid up his chest and went to the collar of his flight suit, one finger slipping into the metal ring near his neck and gently tugging at it. “Let me take care of you while we’re here.”

Arthur reached up and gently grabbed her wrist. “I should be taking care of you, especially after—” His words were cut off by her lips pressing against his, pulling him into a deep kiss; and once he released the hold he had on her hand, she finally pulled away just enough to where their mouths separated while their faces remained close.

“Please, Arthur. Just… just let me—let me take care of you, okay? It helps me and I know it helps you, too.”

There was a sub he’d had at one point who enjoyed taking care of him – the man would focus solely on Maxson’s pleasure and wanted to do whatever possible to make sure he felt good, whether it was through sexual acts or not. It was nice to some extent to have someone tend to his needs, but it grew tiring very quickly – it became _overbearing_ – and that dynamic didn’t last long nor did it sit well with him; he found himself avoiding subs who had that innate need to serve their Doms after that.

Of course, subs who felt the need to serve weren’t the only types of subs in existence; and just as there were numerous types of subs, there were also numerous types of Doms, both groups ranging anywhere from serving to pain to consensual masters and slaves and much more, plus most types intersecting for many people – and while Arthur knew what type of Dom he was, he also knew Nora was still trying to figure herself out regarding what type of sub she might be. His vault dweller was learning herself and still getting the hang of not only their dynamic, but what role she fit into – and it seemed like she was starting to flesh it out here, even if she didn’t fully understand what she was asking.

But he did. He knew what she was asking for.

It wasn’t often Nora chose the path of wanting to take care of him, but at times like this, or like when they were in the lighthouse after he’d had an episode, or even like when he was sick and bedridden for two days by order of the medic, she’d shown her desire to serve. She wanted to take care of him to no physical or obvious benefit of her own – and while he’d initially attributed it to her motherly nature to some extent or another, he now realized he was wrong – it had to do with her _submissive_ role, instead.

In the same way that him taking her control was the equivalent of taking some of the weight off her shoulders, her taking care of him was the equivalent of keeping her mind focused on the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment – caring for her Dom. And while it wasn’t a strong need she exhibited and it didn’t happen often – thankfully – he knew it was there, nonetheless, and it seemed to help her just as much as occasionally being taken care of helped him.

The Elder flicked his eyes back and forth between hers, his hand coming up to brush a few strands of strawberry-blonde locks away from her face before he slightly nodded his head, granting her the permission that she was seeking. “Okay, love. Take care of me,” he said quietly.

A slow grin stretched across her face and she kissed him once more. “Thank you, Sir,” she said against his lips. “But, do you mind, uh…”

“Sure,” he said as he started undoing his jumpsuit; he couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as his uniform was unbuckled and unzipped, Nora started pushing it off his shoulders and sliding it down to his hips, then tugged his undershirt up and over his head, tossing it off to the side and leaving his torso bare. Blue eyes looked him over momentarily, seeming to take in the sight of his bare upper half as her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip; he knew she liked the way he looked, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy when she looked at him. She leaned in then, her mouth immediately going for his neck and placing kisses and nips to his skin while her hands slowly rubbed his shoulders, fingers gently pressing into the tight muscles.

Arthur sighed, his eyes closing and head tipping back as he placed his hands on her hips, resting them there while he allowed her to care for him. He relished in the feeling of her lips tracing along his beard line, moving further inward and toward his throat until she was at the column where she placed soft bites and kisses.

Fuck, that was always his weak spot – always the place that made him go limp – and she used it to her advantage whenever she could.

Deft fingers dug into a specific spot on his shoulder that made him inhale sharply between his teeth and it felt like she’d discovered a knot in his muscle as the area was tender and sore. She dug at it gently, using her fingertips without pressing with her nails, but pushing and rubbing over the sensitive bulge in his shoulder while she distracted him with her teeth on his throat and, _fuck,_ if that didn’t work; his body relaxed beneath her as he let out a low moan.

And after a few moments, the spot she’d been digging at just _released._ It was a strange feeling, one he’d never really felt so intensely before, but he let out a heavy sigh of relief that was paired with a low groan as the tension in that specific place just disappeared. Nora gently circled it with her fingers before moving over to another area, digging at a different knot and giving it the same treatment, and then to another, and another, and another, and before he knew it and by the time she was done massaging him, he’d felt numerous knots release and his shoulders felt loose while, at the same time, his neck was marked up all over again.

But she wasn’t done, because of course she wasn’t.

Maxson felt her slide out of his lap and down to the floor, her hands latching onto his jumpsuit and urging him to lift his hips so she could tug it down; quickly, she undressed him, and he was left in just his boxer briefs while Nora was between his legs, leaning up on her knees. Her mouth was at his chest, teeth biting down on the sensitive skin while her hands roamed over his body.

The vaultie started at his clavicle, trailing bites along the skin that resided over the thin, bony area before moving down in a nearly-straight line to his pectoral and growing dangerously close to his nipple – though she didn’t dare touch it and instead bit down hard directly above it, coaxing a low groan from his chest. Arthur’s hips bucked up against her body, grinding against her chest – fuck, he was _achingly_ hard and wanting her, dying for _something_ to fucking touch his cock, though she wasn’t giving it to him. She wasn’t giving him any fucking relief.

“Nora,” he growled, his tone almost a warning about how she needed to stop toying with him.

A soft noise of acknowledgement was made against him before she was trailing bites to the other side of his chest, though she had trouble grabbing any skin along his sternum since there was no meat for her to snag onto – but as soon as she was at his other pectoral, she bit down, and she bit down _hard;_ Arthur was left panting above her.

Damn this woman.

The Elder’s hand went to her hair, brushing red strands from her face as he watched, seeing each time her mouth opened and teeth clamped down around a new area of skin, how his flesh pinched between her teeth, and how redness blossomed from beneath his chest hair because of the blood rising to the surface.

But when her eyes lifted to meet his, he squinted at her, almost in warning, knowing she was up to no good—

Teeth clamped down on his nipple and Arthur made a sharp, hissing inhale, his jaw tensing and lips curling back at the sudden surge of pain. She didn’t hold the bite for long, however, and soon her tongue was soothing it over, lips placing a soft kiss to the peaked bud as she kept eye contact with him before she started moving further down his body.

Yeah. Damn this woman, definitely.

“Take your shirt off,” he ordered quietly.

Sitting back on her knees, her hands started tugging it off as she was told. “Yes, Sir,” she replied, tossing the piece of clothing away.

“Now your bra,” he added. And when her torso was bare, he found himself appreciating her features, taking in the sight of her chest and how the small, dark freckles on her face were the complete opposite of the large, light freckles on her body.

And, fuck, Nora always had nice tits – they were big, much more than a handful each; and even after she lost weight from being in the Commonwealth after leaving the vault, her tits still looked damn good. Every time he fucked her, he found himself wanting to bite and mark all over her breasts, but she was too sore for that lately because of being pregnant. He’d have to wait it out.

“You always look so fucking good, you know that?”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said quietly, shyly; a flush ran up her face, contrasting with the paleness of her body.

Arthur remained in control and he always would, but right now was about her wanting to serve him – so perhaps giving her some semblance of control, even if it wasn’t _real,_ would help.

“Is it alright if I touch myself?” he asked.

The look on his vault dweller’s face was a chain reaction that began with confusion and shock then turned into pure excitement; she bit her lower lip but shook her head. “No, Sir. Please.”

A light smirk upturned his left cheek. “Very well. Then get to it, pet.”

Soft palms were placed on his thighs, slowly sliding up his legs as she leaned into his body to press gentle kisses along his stomach. Her thumbs hooked beneath the legs of his boxer briefs while her hands kept sliding up, four fingers doing the same beneath the hem at the top so she could somewhat bundle his underwear but still keep his cock covered.

Her lips were on his lower stomach, just above his groin, pressing kisses and licks along the area and trailing from one side to the other, her breath hot as she moved and released heavy exhales against him. Maxson reached down to brush red locks from her face, keeping them out of her way while she worked to please him – knowing she was trying to _tease_ but allowing her to do as she wanted. For now.

The tip of her tongue dragged along the dip of his pelvic muscle, turning into a kiss as soon as she reached his hip, which she then bit down on a spot of flesh directly above his hip bone. He released a low noise from his throat, watching how she had a chunk of his skin between her teeth, her lips parted while her head was turned just slightly so she could see his face from the corner of her eye – she was looking for a reaction. 

He’d give her one.

“Mm. I guess we’re gonna have to talk about serving, aren’t we?” he said, finally mentioning what it was she’d been asking for.

Nora gave him a questioning look before releasing his skin, only to continue placing kisses and licks along his lower stomach, trailing them down to his groin and just above where his boxer briefs were bundled, where the base of his cock was just barely revealed.

“You’ve been wanting to take care of me quite a bit lately. It seems you enjoy doing that – taking care of me – serving me.”

A pleased noise escaped the vaultie just as her mouth was at his base, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to it, and he sighed softly. She pulled his underwear down a bit, revealing a little more of his shaft but not much – and still nowhere near enough to let him slip free – and she trailed even more kisses along it.

“I thought it was just your motherly nature of wanting to take care of someone, but I think it’s more related to you—” he stopped mid-sentence when she dragged the tip of her tongue along where his dick connected with his groin, a sharp inhale being made between his teeth, “— _Mmm_ – to you being a sub and wanting to take care of your Dom. What do you think, pet? You like taking care of me like this? Think it helps you?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his just as she placed a kiss to his shaft. “Yes, Sir,” she said quietly.

“I thought so.”

His cock was almost halfway out of his underwear now, though he was straining against it, still aching and wanting for her touch and attention, and he knew the cloth was wet from his precum though she seemed to pay it no mind. But rather than continuing to tease him, Nora dragged her tongue along the revealed part of his length one more time before pulling his boxer briefs down the rest of the way and off, letting his cock free from its prison to fall heavily against the crook of his left leg and hip; he could only sigh in relief.

_Finally._

Immediately, she was on his dick, kissing along his length – and they were slow kisses, her mouth opening wide to take in some of his girth between her lips, dragging them along the velvety skin as she softly kissed his cock – and _fuck._ Maxson gently stroked her hair, watching her trail those same slow kisses down to the base and then back up to the head that was covered by his foreskin; at least until delicate fingers wrapped around him, slowly pulling it back to reveal rosy glans that she dragged the flat of her tongue over.

Nora held his cock in her hand as she started gradually licking along his length, her eyes closed while she focused on what she was doing, losing herself in playing with him. Precum was already leaking from the head, dripping off and onto his groin as he ached for something more than just teasing kisses and licks – _anything_ more. And he nearly ordered her, too – nearly grabbed her hair and shoved his dick down her throat so he could fuck her face, just to feel that satisfying release he craved – at least until her eyes opened and met his again and he saw that _need_ in them.

And it wasn’t just the need to serve – it was the need to serve _him._

Fuck.

“Good girl,” he purred, and she made a soft noise against his shaft. He brushed her hair back again, watching as she kissed down his length to the base and even down to his balls – where she suddenly sucked one into her mouth, rolling it along her tongue and tugging on his sac by sucking harder. Maxson made a sharp inhale and his hips flexed involuntarily. “Fuck, Nora,” he hissed. “If you keep teasing me like this, I don’t know how much more I can take.”

She released him with a _pop,_ only to take the other one into her mouth, giving it the same treatment that had him shivering above her, his breathing shaky; and once she was satisfied, his sac wet with saliva and settled back between his thighs, she dragged the flat of her tongue up his length before moving forward a bit more and finally – fucking _finally_ – taking his cock into her mouth.

Arthur moaned as his cock was slid halfway in, her lips breaking the string of precum that connected the head of his dick to his groin. She slowly began bobbing her head up and down, teasing him still, but the fact she was giving him more than she was before was, frankly, plenty for him right now. And with his fingers in her hair – not tugging or pulling or even grabbing, but instead just gently holding – he watched as part of his cock disappeared and reappeared from her mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Your mouth feels so good, baby.”

Nora hummed around him, her head beginning to bob a bit faster, taking more of him in, swallowing as soon as she started nearing her gag reflex; and once her nose was buried in the hair on his groin, the head of his cock pressed into the back of her throat, he released a low moan as his hips kept flexing up into her face. She didn’t deepthroat him for long and the hand that had been stroking him before didn’t return to his shaft, instead both hands placing palm-flat on his thighs as she kept bobbing her head.

 _”Mmmfuck,”_ he growled as he felt the sharp sting of nails dragging down his thighs. “You look so good like this, with my dick in your mouth. Exactly – _mmm_ – exactly where you belong. You know that, don’t you?“

When she hummed around him again, he ran his fingers through her hair, a heavy exhale leaving his lungs that puffed his cheeks out. Fuck, he could already feel that familiar heat coiling deep in his belly and at the base of his spine. If she hadn’t been riling him up, he’d be lasting longer, but…

The vaultie pulled off him, her fingers moving back to his cock so she could quickly stroke while she licked her bottom lip, their eyes locking. “Are you gonna cum for me, daddy?”

“Fuck, Nora,” he groaned, thrusting into her hand just slightly.

But her free hand was at his chest when he didn’t answer, nails digging into his skin and dragging down, down, down his body as she left behind deep red lines beneath his chest hair in their wake, forcing him to hiss from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Where do you wanna cum?” she asked.

“Mm. Your mouth,” he panted. “I wanna cum in your mouth.”

Nora grinned wide at him before her lips were back around his cock, sucking hard enough that her cheeks caved while the hand she’d been stroking him with seconds ago was now at his balls, rolling them along her palm and fingers, massaging. But when she suddenly pushed his sac up against the base of his dick, holding it above the webbing between her thumb and forefinger and causing a heavy pressure in his balls from how fucking _tight_ she was making it by pushing, he hissed with a sharp inhale and groaned. Fuck, it hurt, but it felt _good._

Arthur spread his legs more, his breathing growing ragged as he was approaching his climax. Momentarily, his eyes tightly closed, head tipping back as he released a low moan from his chest; but once his gaze returned to her, he let out a shaky exhale. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he breathed.

His vault dweller moaned around him and that, alone, sent him over the edge. She pressed her nose into his groin, throat swallowing around the head of his cock as he came, and Maxson’s back bowed while he let out another moan, his eyes tightly closing as she sucked him dry. But whereas she normally would have stopped once he finished because of the sensitivity he’d have felt after having cum, she didn’t stop this time, nor did she even slow down. Instead, she kept going, sucking hard and bobbing her head again after having swallowed down his spend.

And, goddamn, it was so fucking _uncomfortable._

Clenching his hands into fists, the Elder gripped the edges of the chair seat beneath him as he released a strained noise, his hips jerking from her persistence. He tried to keep still, tried to ride it out, let her have her fun and toy with him because he knew that was what she wanted and that it might help her, but, fuck, it was starting to _hurt_ as that uncomfortable feeling turned to aching and then turned to _throbbing._

But the pain felt so fucking good.

His eyes rolled up and his head tipped back as she kept sucking his cock, his entire body tensing while his legs and hips tried to jerk away from her, wanting her to stop – silently _begging_ her to stop – but she never did. Instead, she stared up at him, watching beads of sweat drip down his face from her torturous actions.

And when he finally looked back down at her, meeting her gaze, he couldn’t take it anymore – Arthur grabbed a fistful of her hair and quickly tugged her off his dick, her lips releasing him with a loud _pop_ that he accompanied with a gasping groan. Nora stared up at him, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as if his cum might have dripped out – but she was always a good girl and swallowed it all down. 

Almost always, at least.

When she wanted to be.

But she knew his cum never went to waste in the end.

Releasing her hair, his hands fell loosely at his side, and Nora moved to rest her cheek against his inner thigh, eyes staring up at him, watching as he tried to regain himself and catch his breath. She was likely waiting for praise or for _something,_ at least, that told her how she did with taking care of him – but he could barely even fucking breathe right now.

However, once he finally caught his breath – for the most part – Arthur ran his fingers through her hair, stroking and petting, and she just hummed against his thigh before gently biting at it.

“You’re such a good girl for me, Nora,” he said quietly; she nuzzled his leg in response. “You took very good care of me. Thank you. Would you like me to return the favor?”

Unsurprisingly, she shook her head. “No, thank you, Sir. I just wanted to help you relax.”

After studying her face for a few moments, the Elder allowed a smile to cross his lips, the feature upturning his left cheek more than his right. She’d managed to clear his mind of the worry he had about everything from the day and he was certainly grateful for that – plus, his shoulders felt incredible.

“Why don’t you finish getting undressed and we’ll lay down for a bit, yeah?” he asked, watching how she perked up.

When she nodded, Arthur helped her to her feet before standing up himself, then made his way over to the bed – or at least started to before he felt a hand _clap_ against one of his ass cheeks.

The Elder froze, standing still for a moment and trying to determine if what he’d felt and heard had actually happened – did she smack his ass? Really? Was that a thing she just did? – and when he settled on the fact that yes, she did, in fact, slap his ass, he turned to face her, being met by an expression that told him she was just as surprised by her action as he was.

With wide eyes and pursed lips, Nora stared at him, her hands clasped behind her back like she was trying to pretend she didn’t just smack his bare ass; but he stared her down, his eyes narrowing slightly, and that was all it took for her to crack.

“I am… so sorry,” she whispered. “Your ass… it’s just—” she paused, pursing her lips again and furrowing her brow as she tried to think. “It’s very nice.”

He tipped his chin up slightly.

“Sir,” she added.

Maxson had to hold back the grin that threatened to stretch across his face because he knew it’d encourage her if she saw it – and the last thing Nora Parker needed was encouragement to touch his ass. She’d shown interest in doing it before and said she’d been _’dying to touch it,’_ and now that she’d gathered the gall to actually _slap it,_ that meant any sort of encouragement would lead to her doing it even more.

No, he had to stop it now.

Shaking his head just slightly, he turned back around and continued his path toward the bed, moving onto it and waiting for her to crawl in with him. Once she did, she tried to lay with her back against his chest like usual, but he had other ideas this time; instead, he rolled her onto her back and moved down the bed a little, and instead rested his head on her stomach, his body partially draped over hers.

Nora was only two and a half months pregnant, so there was no possibility of feeling their baby move or kick or anything like that, but it was some sort of comfort to him to have his head there, knowing their unborn child was alive and well and safe within her womb, just beneath his face and hand. And the vaultie seemed to recognize and appreciate it, too, because she started running her fingers through his hair comfortingly, her other hand going atop his as it rested on her stomach.

“I love you,” he said quietly to her.

It wasn’t often he said those three words first, they both knew that – and it must have caught her off guard because she didn’t answer right away, likely startled. But with her reply, he could hear the grin in her voice.

“I love you, too.”

“I don’t… often understand how I feel or how to even explain it, but… I do know you mean everything to me, Nora. I would—I would do anything for you.”

“I know, baby.”

Closing his eyes, Maxson sighed and gently nuzzled his face against her stomach; the warmth of her body was comforting in and of itself. “I promise I’ll keep you and our baby safe from now on – for good. I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

“Oh, Arthur…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took a while to update. I’ve been struggling with anxiety and chronic pain and migraines and all sorts of fun stuff, so writing chapters has been particularly hard for me lately. I’ll try to update more frequently like I was before!
> 
> also — Nora _finally_ got to slap his ass. hooray!


	79. Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Arthur, I have great respect for you as a leader and as a friend, you know this, and I am not about to get in the middle of your relationship, but you should know that this… codependency you both have on one another is extremely unhealthy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dialogue heavy chapter, be forewarned

“Elder Maxson, I have loyally stood by your side over the past four years as your second-in-command, but this is where I draw the line. I cannot condone what you did this morning.”

“I understand, Kells.”

“No, I don’t think you do. You left your soldiers in the middle of a _fight_ – and not only that, you went to the _Institute,_ of all places!”

Arthur leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as his eyes dropped to the floor, refusing to look at the older man. He’d expected Kells to be unhappy and perhaps, because of that expectation, he should have held a private meeting with the lancer-captain before calling for a larger one with the rest of his staff despite only two other officers who were actually available to attend. Getting chewed out in front of his subordinates was… not ideal, after all.

Still, here they were. Teagan sat to his right, further down the table, while Ingram was directly across from the quartermaster, to Arthur’s left. Cade and Quinlan were left to continue working in the medbay since there was still a lot to do as far as taking care of injured soldiers and documenting injuries and deaths, and Gavil had even more to do down at the airport even with Danse and Kira helping out.

But having just Teagan, Ingram, and Kells present was fine for now.

The Elder brought the cigarette he’d been holding between his index and middle finger to his lips, taking a deep inhale and savoring the stale nicotine he hadn’t tasted over the past month and a half. He’d stopped smoking specifically because Nora was pregnant, not wanting to put the baby at risk of second-hand smoke – but she was in the shower right now, which gave him time to take the edge off and hopefully be done with it before she got out, as well as have this damn meeting over with.

“I realize I should have said something before I left, but I just…” he paused, running his free hand through his hair, “I suppose I just panicked. I shut down when Cade told me Nora would die and I didn’t—I didn’t know what else to do other than take her to her son because I knew they’d have the resources to help her.”

“You not only put your own life in danger, Arthur, but you put the entire _Brotherhood_ in danger all to save her – while that exact same faction has been causing chaos and wreaking havoc throughout the entire Commonwealth,” Kells said. The disappointment in his voice was harsher than ever, penetrating Maxson’s ears like a heavy bass drum.

He ground his teeth together. “I panicked, Kells. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than her and the baby.”

“Oh, yes, the _baby,”_ Teagan cut in, his voice filled with disdain. Everyone turned to look at the quartermaster and Kells snapped his jaw shut; Arthur narrowed his eyes in warning at the proctor. “She may not be after your last name or your rank, Maxson, but someone like Parker is _definitely_ after your _status._ Men like us offer women like her a sort of stability they never had – they got daddy issues, all sorts of shit – so don’t let the idea of this _baby_ cloud your judgment when it’s probable she purposely trapped you in this pregnancy.”

“Teagan,” Arthur warned in a low tone.

“Oh, what, you don’t see how everything went downhill after she came along? How, the moment she bent over for you and you dropped your pants, shit started going wrong?”

“That’s enough,” he growled.

 _”She’s_ probably the reason for all the deaths and injuries this morning. Shit, Arthur, she’s never even taken the _oath_ and yet she sleeps in your bed every damn night like she’s one of us – like she _belongs_ here. How do you know she’s not the one who betrayed us? Who betrayed _you?”_

If there was one constant about Arthur Maxson other than his eagerness to learn and how a single bite along his beard line could make him nearly collapse in submission, it was that he rarely ever yelled. He found it much more effective to speak in a firm, clear, and low voice when getting his point across because, really, yelling just made the other person angry and more likely to want to yell back, which just defeated the purpose of whatever point he was trying to get across to them, _especially_ if it was disciplinary action; it was part of the reason he was effective at leading and why he was well liked, too.

But Teagan… had made him lose all care for that right now.

Slamming his palms onto the table, the sound echoed in the room as Arthur was quickly on his feet and leaning over the furniture, his eyes focused on the proctor, warning him, _daring_ him to say another word.

 _”That’s enough!”_ he snarled, his voice raised just slightly; it wasn’t quite yelling, but it was still louder than the tone he normally used, especially when speaking to someone like this – and it was a big enough change to catch everyone off guard.

The stress was getting to him.

“Your insubordination is getting old, Proctor Teagan,” Maxson started, his tone having dropped to be low and threatening; he’d only raised it just to get Teagan’s attention and catch the other man off guard. “And, frankly, your disrespect for me and my decisions – personal or not – has grown tiring. Now, I will give you a choice and it will be the _last_ choice you have on the matter, so I suggest you listen closely.”

Teagan’s jaw set as he stared from across the table, but Arthur didn’t back down.

“Either you learn to hold your tongue and do the job expected of you as the quartermaster, along with keeping my personal matters out of your fucking mouth, or I will see to it that your position is revoked and you receive one more fitting that will enable you the opportunity to keep from utilizing gossip. Which will it be?”

There was no response.

“Refusing to answer will result in _me_ making that choice for you, Proctor, and I can assure you that you will not like the choice I make.”

“I will hold my tongue,” Teagan said quietly.

“Very good. See to it that you do. You are dismissed.”

The quartermaster tipped his chin up when he stood, his chair screeching across the metal floor in the silent room as Arthur kept his gaze on the older man, watching as he started rounding the table to leave – but that was when the bathroom door opened and Nora walked out.

She was dressed, thankfully, since she knew he was having a meeting while she was in the shower, but the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, she came face-to-face with the proctor. Her eyes upturned to him and that familiar look Arthur had seen earlier this morning washed over her face – the one she’d had when he mentioned sending her to work with Teagan during the fight. It was fear. Fear and… something else.

Something was wrong.

The two stared at one another for half a second just before Nora seemed to shrink back, submitting, but Teagan instead stepped to the side, giving her space and allowing her to move past him and into the room; she did, cautiously, and it looked like she tried to keep as much of a physical gap between them as she could manage.

But… did Teagan just look her over from behind as she walked past?

“No, she needs to leave,” Kells demanded before Arthur could even think on it any longer. “This is a private meeting among officers.”

Nora froze halfway to the bed, her eyes on Teagan until the man was finally out of the room, slamming the bulkhead behind him like a child throwing a temper tantrum; but then her attention turned to the two remaining men. The Elder expected her to protest, to say something along the lines of how this was her room, too, and that they could go somewhere else if they wanted privacy that didn’t include her – but she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she locked eyes with Arthur as he sat back down, her expression nearly _pleading_ for him to let her stay. He crinkled his eyebrows for a moment while he studied her, then finally looked back at Kells.

“She’s fine here,” he said; the lancer-captain shook his head in disapproval but left it at that.

The vaultie finally made her way to the bed and was about to take a seat, but she must have gotten the sense of something – or maybe she could smell it – because her eyes immediately returned to him just as he raised the cigarette to his lips to take another drag, bringing it into her view, and her gaze dropped to the cherry tip as it lit up; she squinted at him.

Shit.

“You’re smoking again?”

“Just one,” he said with a heavy sigh, exhaling smoke; he really didn’t want to get into it in front of other people. “I just need to take the edge off.”

“No, put it out,” she ordered.

His eyes flicked back up to her as he took another drag before shaking his head. “No. I’ll be done with it soon.”

“I don’t want you smoking, Arthur. Put it out.”

“Leave it be,” he warned.

But she wasn’t leaving it, and instead, the towel she’d had in her hand that she’d been using to dry her hair was tossed onto the bed as she started approaching him. He knew what she was planning to do – she’d snatch the cigarette right from his lips just like she had done to his control over a month ago. She’d snuff it out, then find his pack and throw it over the flight deck, just like she did the last pack, and the pack before, and the mattress.

“I said put it out—”

 _”Nora,”_ he snapped, and that was all it took to make her freeze in her tracks like a raddoe. He watched as her jaw tensed, and her hands clenched into fists, and while she’d obeyed his command, her eyes were set into a hard glare, a clear unhappiness on her face; she made sure he could read it in her expression. “Leave it be,” he repeated.

His vault dweller glanced between his eyes and the cigarette and he watched the cogs in her head turn and turn and turn, her hands clenching and unclenching as she seemed to have an internal debate about her next course of action and what that would result in; but she eventually backed down, as he expected her to. Nora was a fighter and she often had more of a fighting spirit when other people were present, some incessant need to prove she wasn’t docile, most likely – at least that was what he assumed; but with what happened earlier… well, she likely didn’t want to push him too much.

“Yes, Sir,” she finally muttered before stepping back and returning to the bed. She crawled onto it and sat with her back to the wall, her eyes still on him as they held gazes for a few more seconds; but Arthur was the first to look away, taking another drag of his cigarette as he turned his attention to Kells.

“Whatever else anyone has to say, you can say it in front of her. Go on.”

The lancer-captain stiffened for a second and huffed in clear disapproval. “Very well,” he started. “Lancer Evans came straight to me after he returned to the Prydwen. I instructed him not to tell anyone else about your visit to the Institute, but if word gets out that is where you went…” he paused, shaking his head just slightly. “It’ll get back to the Citadel.”

“What happens if they find out?” Nora asked.

“Elder Maxson will be put on trial for treason,” Kells answered.

Arthur could feel his vault dweller staring at him, likely with worry and panic and horror on her face – she was filling the damn room with it, after all – but he didn’t look at her; he couldn’t, because he knew if he did, she’d take it as a sign he was blaming her for whatever outcome there might be for him taking her to the Institute. But he wasn’t blaming her – he never would – and if he was presented with the same scenario again, he’d make the exact same choices if that was the only way to spare her and their baby’s lives. 

“If Evans doesn’t talk, Teagan will,” Arthur said.

“Or Cade,” Kells added. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but he’s been communicating with the Council. I intercepted a signal between him and someone at the Citadel this afternoon, though I’m unsure who he was speaking to. They were, ah…” he paused, and Arthur looked over to his second-in-command again, “They were speaking of the fight from this morning, but also of Knight Parker. Intimate details, specifically.”

Nora cursed beneath her breath and when he looked to her, she had her face in her hands.

“That’s not good,” Ingram said quietly, finally contributing to the conversation. “He’s been doing that behind your back?”

“It would seem so,” the Elder sighed. “Cade was asking her questions a while ago that I hadn’t approved of – questions that seemed unnecessary, and I guess now it makes sense if he was reporting it all to the Citadel.”

“Why would they be interested in her? Because she’s pregnant?”

“Yes. Pregnant with my child, prewar, you name it,” he answered; his voice remained calm though he kept his gaze on Nora. There was a flush of red peeking out from beneath her hands as she kept her face covered – he knew what that meant. “Though, I’m not sure what they’re planning, but it can’t be anything could.”

The vault dweller made a sharp inhale against her hands and that confirmed his suspicion that she was crying, or at least beginning to. He knew it was only a matter of time before she started to panic, and it made him wonder what else Cade had asked her – certainly the medic had tried to get more information from her behind Arthur’s back, though she hadn’t told him anything.

Ingram turned to look at Nora, concern on the proctor’s face, before she got up and approached the side of the bed. “Nora,” she said gently. 

Uncovering her face, Parker revealed glassy eyes that were a few shades brighter than usual due to the redness that had taken over the sclera, and wet, freckled cheeks confirmed tears had spilled down them beneath her hands. She looked to Ingram, seeing an outstretched metal-clad hand.

“Come here,” the proctor urged, and Nora slowly scooted off the bed, taking the other woman’s hand to do so and getting pulled to her feet. “Why don’t we go steal some snack cakes from the mess? You need to eat more, anyway,” Ingram said as she started leading her toward the door.

Before it even happened, though, Arthur knew what his vault dweller’s reaction would be – she’d start panicking even more. If there was one constant about Nora, it was that she didn’t like being in unfamiliar territory or company when she was anxious, and while Ingram wasn’t technically _unfamiliar,_ Arthur was where she’d prefer to be. No matter where they were at, his presence provided her with a safe place.

That was confirmed when Nora’s brows drew together as she was being guided toward the bulkhead, her eyes growing wide; she immediately found Arthur’s gaze and her lips parted in question, seemingly unsure what to do though he knew what she wanted: she wanted to stay with him. He felt his own heartbeat speed up – was he panicking, too? Was the memory of how she was injured while alone making him realize he truly didn’t want to let her out of his sight like he’d promised her, even if she was with someone he trusted like Ingram?

Then again, she was _supposed_ to be with Kells before but that didn’t turn out well.

“No, she needs to stay here,” Maxson blurted out, and both officers turned to look at him in confusion. His jaw set but he kept his eyes on Nora, trying to reassure her that she was safe and that he wouldn’t let her get taken away again—

“Okay,” Ingram conceded quietly, somehow seeming to understand. “We can finish the meeting in the morning. I’m sure you’re both exhausted from today and I think she needs to rest, anyway.”

Kells shook his head in disapproval again as he stood up from his seat and started toward the door, beginning to follow after the proctor as she left – but he stopped before completely exiting the room, turning to face the Elder as he spoke. “Arthur, I have great respect for you as a leader and as a friend, you know this, and I am not about to get in the middle of your relationship, but you should know that this… codependency you both have on one another is extremely unhealthy.” He paused, his eyes flicking over to Nora momentarily as the vaultie looked down at the floor, but Arthur just kept his eyes on Kells the entire time. “It’s interfering with your job as Elder and, quite frankly, will result in only working against you in the long run; and I imagine it’s not exactly very healthy for Knight Parker, either, given her… well, given her history of trauma. I say this out of concern, nothing more.”

The room was silent for a long moment as Maxson let the words sink in, thinking them over. It was true that his and Nora’s relationship had been unhealthy in the beginning – he hadn’t been the greatest person to her, stringing her along for some time and hurting her in the process while she had, essentially, begged him for a relationship and intimacy, only for him to give in just a little before snatching it all away. But once they finally started to bond, to get close – once he finally started to _let her in_ – things got… better. A lot better. 

But had it become unhealthy in a different way? Was it so unhealthy even in this new way that others noticed? Had they become truly _dependent_ on one another?

Maybe they had.

Arthur depended on her to stop his night terrors while Nora depended on him to quell her anxiety. But… was it more than that?

“Thank you for your input, Kells. We’ll continue the meeting in the morning.”

The lancer-captain nodded his head before finally exiting the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving the two alone.

Immediately, his vault dweller came at him. He leaned back in his chair, spread his legs, and planted his feet on the ground, figuring she wanted to sit in his lap – but instead, she dropped to her knees, pushing his thighs apart more so she could fit between them and then… started trying to undo the groin flap on his jumpsuit.

Arthur sat there for a moment, stunned, watching her as she seemed focused and determined on what she was doing. It took her a few tries before she got the clip open and reached in, wrapping her fingers around his soft cock through his boxer briefs – and that was enough to snap him out of his momentary stupor. Reaching down, he grabbed her wrists, keeping her from going any further.

“Hey, hey, hey. What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

“I—I don’t—” She refused to look at him, instead just staring at her captured hands. “I need to take care of you.”

“No, you don’t. You need to talk to me.”

“No, I—I need to take care of you. Please.”

Nora tugged her hands, trying to pull them out of his grasp so she could get back to what she was doing, but he just sighed and pulled her arms so he was pinning her wrists against one of his legs, his other hand going to the side of her head and pushing it against his other thigh, making her press her cheek against him. “Talk,” he ordered.

“Please let me serve you, Arthur,” she said quietly, her voice cracking.

“If you talk to me first, then I’ll consider it. Now, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

She didn’t answer at first as her eyes just stared forward, distant, but he gave her as much time as she needed to think it over; though, when she did speak, her voice was nearly trembling. “They’re going to hurt you and then they’re going to take my baby away,” she whispered.

Ah.

The fear of losing her child was resurfacing – then again, it never really went away – as well as the fear of losing the person she loved, and he couldn’t really blame her. If Cade was talking to the Council about her, it couldn’t have meant anything good, and she knew that. Still, every single person in the Citadel would have to go over his dead body before they ever touched his and Nora’s child.

The hand that was holding her head against his thigh shifted so he was stroking the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone. “Look at me,” he ordered; she shook her head, so he changed his tone. “Eyes on me,” he snapped, and immediately, she turned her gaze up to him without lifting her head. “Do you trust me?” he asked; she nodded. “Speak your answer, pet.”

“Yes, Sir. I trust you.”

“Then trust me when I say I will _never_ let anything happen to our child. _Never._ I don’t care what Cade tells the Council or what anyone at the Citadel says – we are raising this baby together. You’re going to be a great mother and you’re going to help me be a good father. Okay?”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

“You’re a very good girl for talking, Nora,” he praised gently as he brushed her hair from her face. “Thank you for telling me what was bothering you. Now, what can I do to help?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly.

“Do you need to serve me?” he asked; she shook her head. “Then what do you think will help?”

Nora pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Will you… be gentle with me?”

Her request made him smile; it wasn’t often she asked him to be gentle with her though he knew she enjoyed it, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy the intimacy, as well, despite how, at one point, he’d thought that was a thing he’d never come to crave. “Of course,” he said softly as he released her wrists, coaxing her to sit up before he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Nora returned the kiss but once it broke, she pushed herself to her feet, only for Arthur to tug her into his lap; she straddled his thighs, her arms wrapping over his shoulders as he pulled her down into another kiss, her fingers teasing the short hairs at the base of his head. His own hands started to slowly slide up her shirt, soon slipping it off and tossing it away before he reached around to unclasp her bra, sliding it off her shoulders; immediately after, they were at her sides, palms gently stroking up and down while his thumbs just barely brushed the sides of her breasts, and the vaultie shivered in response to the soft touches.

She started fiddling with his jumpsuit and he was tempted to let her work on it at first, but knowing she was stressed out meant she might end up getting frustrated even more, so he unbuckled and unclasped it for her, allowing her to push it off his shoulders herself and down to his hips – which she then proceeded to tug his undershirt off and toss it away.

Almost immediately, she went for his throat – because of course she did – and started pressing teasing kisses along his beard line. Arthur tipped his head back for her, baring the vulnerable area and giving her better access, and she took that advantage to mark him up more than she had earlier that day. He could have taken a stimpack to rid himself of the bruises she’d left him from when they were at the castle, which might have lessened just how much of a tongue lashing he received from Kells, but he didn’t want to – at this point, he _enjoyed_ receiving them and even wore them with pride. Whereas at one point he refused to let her mark him at all, and then eventually let her mark him so long as the bruises were out of sight, now he just let her mark him wherever she wanted.

It was a claim, and he knew it, just as he had marked her the first night she’d come to his room when he’d eaten her out, and the second night when they’d fucked for the first time after she‘d said she’d had sex with MacCready, so he bruised up her thighs, throat, and shoulders – she was now marking him. Only, at this point in time, they truly belonged to one another, regardless of wedding rings or vows or contracts, and if someone like Arthur Maxson willingly and eagerly baring his throat wasn’t a clear sign he’d given his body, heart, and mind over to her… well, then there wasn’t anything better that could signify it.

She placed a few more soft kisses along his neck before finally biting at the column just beneath his beard line, and Arthur’s body nearly went limp. His eyes fluttered closed and he released a low moan that bellowed from his chest, only to receive a small noise from Nora in return, one that vibrated straight from her mouth and into his neck.

Releasing his skin, she pulled away and got onto the floor between his legs to start unlacing his boots, pulling them off one at a time. He watched her, seeing how she remained focused on what she did, her mind refusing to stray to anything other than what was happening in the here and now. She may have wanted him to be gentle with her, but she still fell into her role as a sub – not necessarily serving him or even submitting, but just the way she went about her routine showed how she fit into the place she’d come to know so well.

Maxson reached a hand down and started rubbing his cock through his flight suit, feeling how hard he was just from having her in his lap and biting his throat. She’d managed to get the first boot off, carefully setting it to the side along with his sock before she turned back around – but that was when her eyes saw his hand and she focused on how he was touching himself through his clothes. Licking her bottom lip, she watched him intently, and Arthur could only smirk.

“One more, love,” he said quietly.

Nora glanced up at his face before looking down at his remaining boot, and she quickly went back to work, unlacing it and tugging it off with his sock, then carefully setting it to the side, as well, before she started pulling at his jumpsuit to take it off. Unlike earlier in the day, she didn’t keep his boxer briefs on, instead opting to undress him completely.

His jumpsuit was set to the side near his boots and when she turned back around this time, his hand was on his cock again, fingers wrapped around his shaft and making slow strokes. She went back to watching even as she stood up, and he expected her to come sit in his lap or go on the bed or something, but instead she just stood there, watching him touch himself.

Arthur couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face, upturning his left cheek more than his right. “Like what you see, pet?”

Flicking her eyes up to his momentarily, she nodded before returning her gaze to his cock. He spread his legs a bit more, his other hand dropping between them so he could cup his balls at the same time, rolling them and massaging them in his palm while he kept stroking his dick.

“You wanna keep watching me touch myself or do you want me to come over there and take you?”

══════════════════

Biting her lower lip, Nora considered the options presented to her before she ripped her gaze away from his cock again, returning her eyes to his face. “Take me. Please, Sir,” she decided, her voice quiet.

Immediately, Arthur was on his feet and prowling toward her; it caught her off guard. “You want me to take you _gently,_ Nora?” he asked.

His tone was almost mocking and that just confused her – did he not just agree to being gentle moments ago? He was even _smiling_ about it. Didn’t he even _like it_ when he took her gently, too? She’d thought he enjoyed the intimacy they shared during those moments, but… why was he being this way now? Why was he mocking her?

The vaultie nodded her head, but as she realized the distance between them was slowly closing, her eyes grew wide and she was soon backing up toward the bed.

“You want me to be _intimate_ with you?”

Confusion spread through her even more just before the back of her legs hit the mattress and she was sent falling onto her ass, her arms flailing before she finally met the bed; but once she was sitting and leaning back on her hands, she was staring up at him trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

“I asked you a question,” he snapped – she nearly _winced;_ he was using _that_ tone. Arthur started climbing onto the mattress over her, crawling and prowling like a predator cornering his prey, ready to devour her bit by bit, and Nora could only scoot back and away from him as her breathing picked up. “Do you want me to be _intimate_ with you?” he repeated

“Y-yes, Sir,” she whispered.

His body was over hers then, caging her in. “So, you want me to _make love to you,_ is that it?”

A flush ran up her cheeks at his words. Normally, she wouldn’t have felt embarrassed by this sort of talk – Arthur had used this tactic with her before during sex and, hell, it had gotten her off pretty fucking easily – but it was different this time. There was something different about mocking her need for him to be gentle with her right now and it made her just not want him at all.

Nora pushed at his chest with both hands. “Get off me. Get away—” she started, but the hand that grabbed her jaw made her pause, and Maxson’s lips were nearly on hers – they were so close she could feel them move as he spoke.

“Shh, shh, shh. Relax,” he purred. His body shifted a little and she felt his free hand down between her legs, his fingers pressing between her legs through her pants.

A gasp escaped her, but she tried to push at his chest again. “Arthur—”

“Relax,” he repeated, drawling the word; he tipped her head to the side then leaned down to press kisses to her neck, which did, in fact, help her relax to the point where she stopped fighting him. He trailed those kisses to her ear, his facial hair just barely brushing against her skin as he spoke; her body shivered in response. “I’m gonna fuck you gently, Nora,” he whispered, his lips grazing the flesh just in front of her ear. “I’m gonna make love to you because I know that’s what you want despite the fact that I’ve never been gentle with anyone else. Because you mean the world to me and if that’s how you wanted me to fuck you for the rest of our days, then that’s exactly how I would fuck you.”

She released a shaky breath. “You are such a bastard, Arthur.”

The grin that stretched across his face was evident against her skin as he placed a kiss beneath her ear. “That must be why you love me,” he quipped.

“No, I clearly only love you for your fat cock,” she retorted.

“Well, I clearly only love you because you’re good at sucking dick, so I guess we’re even.”

Before she had a chance to respond, his teeth were clamped down on the skin just beneath her ear, his lips closing around it and sucking, as well, with the obvious intention to mark her. Nora gasped before releasing a breathy moan, her legs spreading around his hips as she started grinding herself against him, feeling his hard cock pressing into her through her pants.

Maxson released her from the bite after a moment, dragging the flat of his tongue over the darkening area before he pushed himself to sit back on his haunches, then reached down to undo her pants; he took his time in sliding them down her legs, tossing them onto the floor, leaving her in just her underwear. Callused palms were then on her thighs, slowly sliding upward to her hips where his fingers curled around the hem of her panties, making her lift her hips so he could pull them down over her rear, followed by her legs raising up to his chest as he slowly pulled them down the rest of the way. Once they were off, they joined all the other clothes on the floor, and Arthur’s lips found the side of her calf, pressing a few soft kisses before he spread her legs again and slotted his hips between her thighs.

Rather than pushing into her, however, she felt his fingers against her folds, sliding along them before his middle and ring fingers dipped into her pussy. Nora’s back arched and she moaned, her eyes closing; he was pressing kisses against her neck again while his fingers began to slowly move in and out, and he didn’t waste much time before pressing a third finger into her, stretching her open further as he crooked all three and found that bundle of nerves fairly quickly – he’d had his fingers inside her enough times that he would have known where that sensitive spot was at by heart.

He only briefly stretched her open before the third finger slipped out, going back to two, and she felt him tapping the pads of his fingers along that sensitive patch inside her, feeling it out, but that told her what he was about to do – he was about to fuck her hard on his fingers. 

“Arthur,” she whispered, and he paused in his movements. “Fuck me. Please.” He lifted his head to look at her and her hands found his jaw, fingers threading into his beard. “I need you,” she added before kissing him gently.

A low noise was made against her lips before he pulled his fingers from her pussy and readjusted the way his body sat between her legs, positioning his cock against her – and slowly started pushing in. Nora’s knees bent toward her chest a bit more, and she made a sharp inhale at the burning sensation from his girth stretching her. He didn’t finger her much to stretch her, but it never mattered how much she was prepped because Arthur was _thick,_ and she always felt a burn from the stretch when he pushed in.

Once he was hilted, he remained still, though she was panting beneath him; the kiss had already broken and his lips were back on her neck, and she could only tip her head back in response, baring her throat to him in submission.

“Okay,” she whispered, giving him the go ahead as soon as that burning mostly subsided.

She expected him to start slow, like usual; to make small thrusts just to test the waters and make sure she was actually ready for him to start moving. But when he pulled his hips back so almost all of his cock was pulled out with just the head remaining inside her, only to thrust forward so he went as deep as possible – not even a _rough_ thrust, just a _deep_ one – Nora almost came right then and there. Her eyes rolled up and she tensed beneath him when he hit that bundle of nerves inside her just right, a breathy moan escaping her throat.

Her legs spread more for his broad frame, though one soon shifted down to wrap around his thigh, her foot ending up between his legs, while the other remained bent up near his waist. At the same time, her hands found purchase on his body, one gripping his shoulder as her arm wrapped beneath his while the other reached down and grabbed his hip, her nails digging into his flesh.

“Arthur,” she breathed. “Oh, fuck.”

As he was leaned down onto one forearm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into her hair, his face buried against her neck so he could kiss and lick and bite at the soft skin as he kept up his slow, deep thrusts.

He was quiet, though, just like he was the last couple times he’d fucked her gently – and she didn’t understand why. The man was charismatic to hell and back, but he suddenly never knew what to say when it came to intimate moments—

“You are so beautiful,” he purred against her throat.

Scratch that. He knew.

“Fuck,” she breathed. “More. Talk more. Please.”

“So fucking beautiful.” Kisses were trailed up from her throat to her chin. “So fucking perfect.” When their lips met, she made a small noise into the kiss, her body clinging to his; and once they broke apart again, he kept their faces close, their lips brushing against one another as he spoke. “I’m gonna take care of you, Nora.”

“Yeah?” she breathed, her face flushing.

“Yeah. Gonna take care of you and our baby. Gonna make sure you never – _mmm_ – you never want for anything again. It won’t be as—it won’t be as good as your old life, but – _fuck_ – but I’ll make it as good as possible.”

The heat in her cheeks intensified. He wanted to _take care of her?_ What did that even mean?

“I just want to be with – _ohhh_ – I just want to be with you, Arthur,” she whispered.

“Good, because I’m gonna marry you and then – _mmmfuck_ – and then you’re gonna be stuck with me. I’m never letting you go.”

Nora’s chest ached with his words. He’d never spoken to her like this before – not during sex, at least; and any time he’d spoken anywhere _close_ to this, it was when they were having serious conversations, like during their date to the lighthouse. She knew he wasn’t very good with this sort of stuff, or at least he _thought_ he wasn’t, but… he was trying for her, and he was certainly _succeeding._

The hand on his hip moved to just above his ass cheek, nails digging into the top of his ass while her other arm curved beneath his a bit more, her fingers curling around the back of his shoulder and holding tightly. “I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, baby.”

“We’re gonna have a huge fucking family,” he started, pressing his lips to hers briefly before trailing kisses down her jaw and to the side of her neck. “We’re gonna raise all our kids together and – _mmm_ – and, fuck, just thinking about you being a mother makes me so fucking horny, Nora, you have no idea.”

“That is so goddamn weird, Arthur.”

He laughed against her neck. “I don’t care. Just knowing you’ll give me children and how fucking good you’ll – _mmm_ – how good you’ll look while pregnant just – _fuck.”_

Nora’s head tipped back as she felt that familiar heat coiling deep in her belly and between her thighs. The way he was thrusting and from how close their bodies were had his groin rubbing perfectly against her clit, and combined with how he always hit that bundle of nerves inside her – he was too thick _not_ to hit it – she was going to tip over the edge soon; she could only hold onto him tighter. “How many kids do you want?” she asked quietly.

“At least three,” he answered against her throat, nipping her skin.

“Okay, I’ll give you—” the vaultie gasped, following it up with a moan as he roughly thrusted into her once before returning back to that same pace of slow and deep, “—I’ll give you at least three. As many as you want.”

The moan Maxson released against her throat had her shivering. “Good, because I’ll be fucking you for – _mmmshit_ – for the rest of our lives, and I’m not gonna stop coming in you now. You’ve got me fucking addicted.”

Oh, fuck. That made her stomach flip.

“Think you can handle that, pet?” he asked, his pace picking up just a bit, growing a little rougher. “Think you can handle me – _mmm_ – think you can handle me coming inside you? Fucking you for years?”

Nora quickly nodded her head, her back arching slightly. “Yeah. I don’t think I’d rather be fucked by – _ohhhfuckbaby_ – by anyone else.”

His face was suddenly in front of hers, their eyes locked, and his hand was grasping her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Good, because you’re mine, Nora Parker – no one else’s. Whether we’re married or not, you will always be _mine.”_ The last word was accentuated with a harder thrust that made her yelp before he returned to the pace he was at before, and the vaultie could only lean up to crash her lips against his, the heat between her thighs coiling tighter and tighter.

Releasing her jaw, he reached up to pull her hand from his shoulder, instead pinning her arm against the mattress above her head as his palm slid up her wrist until he was lacing their fingers together, holding them there.

Nora pulled back from the kiss just enough to speak against his lips. “Baby,” she breathed. “I’m gonna cum.”

 _”Yes,”_ he purred, his teeth beginning to pepper bites along her jaw. “Cum for me, Nora.”

Arthur started fucking her harder again, his thrusts much rougher than how he’d started out, and it was only sending her over the edge faster; her thighs were trembling and her head tipped back as she moaned his name, the sound met with his teeth against her throat, marking along the column. It wasn’t long before she could tell he was getting close, too, his rhythm just beginning to falter.

“Oh, _fuck,_ Arthur,” she keened. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he breathed against her neck.

“Cum inside me, baby.”

“Shit, Nora,” he groaned. “Call me ‘daddy.’ Say it.”

A wide grin stretched across her face and she almost felt _bad_ for wanting to laugh, but hearing that was… well, it was a mixture of adorable and humorous and fucking _sexy._

Her arm stretched down a bit further, reaching – almost, _almost_ – until her hand managed to grab ahold of his ass cheek, gripping and feeling how damn _firm_ it was; and she let out a sigh of relief now that she _finally_ got to grab it like she’d been wanting to since she’d touched his hip. Digging her nails into his ass, Arthur groaned in response.

Turning her head slightly, Nora’s lips were right beside his ear since his face was still buried in her neck, and she nipped the lobe. “Please cum inside me, daddy. I wanna feel your cum leaking out of me.”

He groaned against her, his hand squeezing hers as their fingers were still laced; he was thrusting harder, so close to his end – she could fucking _feel it._

“Oh, fuck yes,” she gasped. “Come on, daddy. Fill me up.”

Her teeth found his beard line just beneath his ear, biting down hard – and that sent him over the edge. With a loud, breathy moan, he thrusted once more, his hips slamming against hers and forcing her up the bed with a yelp that was muffled against his neck as he buried himself inside her while he came. When she released him, he shifted his head a bit, turning so his nose and lips were pressed against the side of her face and he placed a gentle kiss to her jaw.

“I love you so much, Arthur,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” he panted in reply.

Well, being gentle didn’t exactly work out, but that was fine — this was still intimate and just the mere thought of the things he said made her stomach tighten. Fuck, how did he always make her feel like a schoolgirl?

They were quiet for a long moment though he didn’t get off her, instead both of them just relishing in the closeness – and, really, it helped keep her calm, especially after earlier. It allowed her mind to stay off whatever bad shit was happening. But… that meant she kept thinking about _other_ things – like what he’d said.

He wanted to marry her and have kids with her. Have a family. Like… a normal family? No, that couldn’t be true – there was nothing _normal_ about the wasteland; and, furthermore, there was _especially_ nothing normal about being married to a Brotherhood Elder.

Or being married to _her._

But… still, even with all her faults and problems and issues that crept back into her life and continued to haunt her, he wanted her. He wanted to be with her – he wanted to be with _Nora._ Scrapes and bruises and trauma and all.

Right?

That didn’t make any sense.

“Arthur,” she whispered.

“Mm?”

“Are you… sure you want to marry me?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, love.”

Her face flushed. “But… why?”

Arthur pulled away from her neck to lean on his forearms again, releasing her hair since he still had his fingers threaded into it. He stared at her silently, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers, but she just chewed her lip while she waited for an answer. She may not have been having anxiety about the Council and Cade and someone betraying or infiltrating the Brotherhood anymore, but now she was just having it about Arthur not really wanting to be with her.

“Because—”

_Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang._

Nora startled and looked to the door, Arthur doing the same, his lips pursing in annoyance at the interruption.

“Hold on,” he called to whoever was banging on the door, then turned back to Nora to give her a brief kiss on the lips before getting up. His soft cock slipped completely free from her pussy and she shivered from the feeling of being suddenly empty, as well as from the feeling of his cum leaking out of her.

Arthur moved over to his suit on the floor, grabbing it and pulling it up to his hips, then tying the arms off – as well as reclipping the groin flap since that was undone from earlier. Once that was done, he went to the door and opened it, Nora having covered herself despite the bulkhead not being opened enough to show her to whoever was standing outside it.

“Arthur, you need to come down to the airport.”

It was Danse – and the paladin didn’t sound happy.

Nora sat up, her eyes on the door while she was covering herself with the blanket, listening for an explanation.

“What’s wrong?” the Elder asked.

“Paladin Guerrero and I found out where the ghouls came from and who set them loose. And who attacked Nora. Get dressed and meet me on the flight deck.”

Nora’s stomach dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giving you lots of fluff at the end because y’all know what’s coming


	80. Perpetrator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freezing in his step, Danse held up a closed fist to signal for Kira to stop, as well, while he listened.
> 
> “… went well… ghouls took down a lot… you were right… they never… coming…”
> 
> Glancing back at his companion, he silently questioned if she heard the same thing he had before he turned toward the supply room, quietly approaching it; and just as the door flung open, he was met with a face he didn’t expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are quite a few pov changes toward the middle and end, so keep that in mind!

The day had been filled with chaos after the attack on the airport – there were ghouls _everywhere,_ along with Brotherhood soldiers that were either dead or injured in their wake. Destruction followed suit, of course, as chunks of buildings were all over the place, most as a result of laser weapons having carved through metal and concrete, the rest from power armor bashing through walls.

Danse and Kira had tried to clean up the worst of it all, spending a good portion of the day helping move injured soldiers to an area that was designated as the airport’s medbay, as well as helping with others who had less severe injuries for what they could manage. Now, it was a matter of taking count of the dead, collecting holotags, removing armor that was still salvageable, and transferring bodies into specific areas – one for ghouls and one for soldiers, both groups destined to be burned in order to prevent the spread of disease.

But as tragic as it was, Danse pushed through it, leaning down and reaching into the collar of the flight suit of a knight he’d personally trained a few years ago – Knight Lindy – and whose body he’d just set beside the group of dead soldiers lined up to have their armor and belongings removed from their corpses; someone else would come along and do that later, surely. He tugged the holotags from around her neck before pushing himself to stand back up, staring down at the chain momentarily.

“How many tags have you collected, Guerrero?” he asked, glancing over to Kira.

Paladin Guerrero looked… distraught, as if she was still taking everything in and trying to come to terms with the slaughter that had happened here; honestly, he couldn’t blame her. The entire thing was a damn _mess._ Most of the dead were people she knew well, too – reinforcements from the Citadel who were staying in the airport and who were the ones caught off guard when the ferals first descended into Brotherhood territory. There were still plenty of dead soldiers from the Prydwen, too, though not as many compared to the amount of dead reinforcements; getting caught by surprise had done far too much damage.

“Honestly, I’ve lost count, Danse,” she said quietly as she looked down to the bundle of tags in her hand.

Sighing, he stuffed the new one he’d picked up into his bag, then held it open for her to add the ones she’d collected into it, as well, closing it up afterward and swinging it back over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s head this way,” he directed, jerking his chin to the left. “We haven’t cleared this part of the airport of any soldiers yet.”

She followed close behind, her power armor whirring in time with his. “Who would do something like this?”

It was a good question – but a question he didn’t know the answer to. Who, indeed, would send a large group of ferals after unsuspecting people, destining them to die – and not just die any sort of death, but _painful_ deaths, at that, because ferals were vicious abominations that showed no mercy? He wished he could answer her – he really did – but he didn’t even know where to start searching for the answer, himself.

“I don’t know, but I hope we find out soon; and we need to figure out where these ferals came from, too, just in case there’s more,” he replied while shaking his head. “They had to have come from somewhere close, I’d imagine. Ferals don’t usually travel or stray far from where they claim as their home.”

Coming upon a few more corpses of soldiers with ghouls piled atop them – likely getting killed just as the soldiers were taken down in the process – Danse went to work on pushing the creatures off so he could get to the knights beneath them, grabbing the holotags as soon as he did.

But Kira’s voice caught his attention.

“Hey, Danse,” she said quietly. “Look over there. I think I see someone sneaking around.”

Tugging the final chain off, he stood, glancing over at his companion before following her gaze – and, lo and behold, he caught sight of someone just as they went around the corner of a building. It was dark outside but, from what he could tell, they weren’t wearing a Brotherhood uniform, instead donning all black attire while a hood was pulled over their head. And to make matters worse, their body was slightly crouched low to the ground as they were literally _sneaking._

Humming, his eyes narrowed. “That’s… certainly not suspicious,” he mumbled; normally, he wouldn’t have made a joke or even made light of the situation, but it was just more proof Nora had rubbed off on him. “Let’s take a look. We should leave our power armor, though – too noisy.” As much as it pained him, Danse set his bag down and pressed the release button on the inside of his armor and stepped out of it as it opened, waiting for Kira to do the same before silently starting after the person she’d spotted.

“Do you think they have anything to do with what happened here?”

“Maybe,” he whispered. “It’s possible, considering they’re sneaking around. I wouldn’t rule it out just yet.”

Rounding the corner, the one they were following was quickly moving toward the shoreline – heading straight for a boat that was at the edge of the water, likely using it as an escape to get away from the airport without drawing too much attention. But that… wasn’t good.

“Shit. We need to stop them—” he started, but Kira was already on it.

And she was _fast._

The other paladin closed in on the person and tackled them to the ground. “Stop!” she yelled, and Danse could only watch in amazement with wide eyes.

They went down, shrieking in surprise and fear, and that was enough to snap him out of his momentary stupor – or was it momentary admiration? – to where he was quickly beside the two of them. He had no doubt Kira could handle whoever it was she’d taken down, so instead, he reached for the laser pistol on the person’s hip and snatched it from them, then yanked the hood off—

“Scribe Davis?” he questioned with disbelief. “What are you doing out here? Why are you sneaking around like this, not wearing your Brotherhood attire? You have to know how this looks—”

“Get this bitch off me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” Davis hissed, struggling beneath Kira.

“If you didn’t do anything wrong, then why are you sneaking around?” Kira retorted, still holding the other woman on the ground. “Looks very suspicious to me.”

“I’m just…” Davis paused, her tone having changed as she swallowed hard – Danse could almost _hear_ it, “I’m going out to meet someone, okay? I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Right after the attack on the airport?” he asked. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re out here with no armor, no support, and a laser pistol for a weapon. No one’s been cleared to leave, it’s too dangerous – what are you _really_ doing out here?”

The scribe grew quiet, refusing to answer.

“Get her up, Guerrero. Let’s find a safe spot to take her so we can figure out what’s going on. Maybe we can get some answers.”

As Kira brought Davis to her feet, Danse led them toward a different secluded part of the airport, though it was still nearby, and opened the door to a small room that wasn’t really ever used; it was mainly a control room for something he didn’t fully understand since it had to do with prewar planes, but there were still chairs and a table inside, so that was all they needed. Guerrero immediately utilized the chair, pushing the scribe into it and nearly sending her toppling over as she did, but he grabbed the back of it to prevent her from falling.

“Talk, or I’ll make you talk,” the other paladin hissed. “And if you’re the one that caused this whole mess, I’ll make sure you pay.”

This sort of thing was against protocol, he knew that – they should take her up to the Prydwen and straight to Kells or Maxson, not interrogate her on their own – but everything was so hectic at the moment that it would surely be understandable if they got some answers first rather than immediately bother their superiors… right? Especially if this wasn’t actually anything important, however unlikely that was.

At this point, though, Davis was shaking in fear, and he knew they wouldn’t need to restrain her – not yet, at least – since she already seemed pretty damn terrified; hell, she was slightly smaller than Kira in height and weight and much, much smaller than Danse in both aspects, so intimidating her in that regard wasn’t _too_ difficult. Plus, Kira had literally _tackled_ the other woman and that probably still had the poor girl’s head spinning.

But the scribe’s eyes remained on Guerrero as if she recognized the other paladin was the biggest threat in the room, knowing Danse well enough to know he wouldn’t strike her to get information from her, but… well, she didn’t know Kira – and that meant the other woman was a wild card, capable of doing anything. Whether Danse would _stop_ her from doing anything was the real question, though.

“You know what happened here, Davis, so you must also know that you sneaking around isn’t a good look. And, right now, you’re acting pretty suspicious as if you had something to do with the attack. Talking is the only way to help your case.”

“I already told you,” she hissed, though her voice didn’t hold as much weight as she likely intended. “I didn’t do anything. I was going to see someone.”

Kira moved closer to the scribe, hovering over her – intimidating. “Alright, _Davis,”_ she said, using the smaller woman’s name in a mocking tone, “If you didn’t do anything wrong, then you’ll have no problem telling us why you were sneaking around out of your Brotherhood uniform.”

There was a moment of hesitation as she thought, and Danse just crossed his arms over his chest. “Answer the question.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t want anyone to know I was…” she paused, her face conflicted and hesitant, “That I was going on a date, or affiliated with the Brotherhood.”

“A date?” he echoed.

“Yeah. A date.”

“Why would anyone care if you were going on a date or part of the Brotherhood?”

She chewed her bottom lip. “Because it’s with someone the Brotherhood doesn’t approve of – and who doesn’t approve of the Brotherhood – which is why I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

Suddenly, Kira had the scribe’s shirt bundled in her fist. “Damnit, stop lying already! We’re not here to play games!”

Davis’ eyes grew wide as they nearly popped out of her head, terror washing over her face. She shrieked again and grabbed ahold of Kira’s wrists while trying to push herself away and make herself seem smaller, submitting.

“Guerrero,” Danse started, but the other paladin was already letting go by the time he even finished saying her name. 

“You try talking to her, Danse,” Kira said in irritation. “I need to leave for a few or I’m gonna kill the bitch.”

Sighing, he ran a hand down his face as he watched her leave, then turned back to Davis, walking over to her and crouching in front of her, meeting at eye level. “You gotta be straight forward with me, Davis. Come on. If that’s all you were doing, then okay, but keeping us in the dark when you’re suspected of something like treason isn’t a good look. What do you think will happen when we have to take you to see Elder Maxson?”

The scribe’s eyes grew wider as tears started to form in them. “No. No, no, no. Please, Danse. Please. I didn’t do anything. You can’t turn me in for this, they’ll—” she choked on her words, shaking her head.

“Then I need you to talk to me,” he replied, but a hand on his shoulder made him turn to see Kira was back, her temper having vanished that quickly; he stood, following her a few steps away.

“Let me talk to her again. I’m calm now, so I won’t kill her,” she said with a light chuckle – that was a tad unnerving. “I promise.”

Danse was growing frustrated; despite having consoled crying women in the past – Haylen and Nora being the only ones, really – he was never very good at it and this was a completely different situation than the others, anyway. But if Kira had collected herself, perhaps the scribe would find it easier to relate to another woman… assuming Kira’s temper hadn’t destroyed that possibility of being able to relate to her, of course.

“Alright,” he conceded, agreeing to give her another go.

Guerrero turned back to Davis, but the scribe flinched just from being looked at. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I’m just really upset with what happened here, but I shouldn’t have treated you like that, though. So, please, just tell me why you were sneaking around.” Her voice was much calmer now.

“I already told you!” the scribe yelled, her cheeks wet with tears. “I was going to meet someone for a date, and I didn’t want anyone else to know. Why would I do this!?”

“Tell us more so we can get this over with and let you go.”

She hesitated. “… It was someone from Goodneighbor, okay?”

“We need a name, Davis, that way we can verify your story,” Danse cut in. “You know we can’t just go with that—”

“His name’s Hancock, alright!?” she shouted, frustration clear in her voice. “He’s the—he’s the mayor of Goodneighbor. We’re not _dating_ but he’s kind. And good in bed. And—”

Danse groaned at the mere name. “You’ve got to be joking. Come _on,_ Davis. A _ghoul!?_ And _Hancock_ of all ghouls!?”

Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped when she realized he knew the mayor. “Oh, god. Please. Please, Danse, don’t tell anyone. They’ll—they’ll kill me or—or—or… I don’t know!”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he sighed heavily, unsure of how to continue from this point. It was against the codex for someone in the Brotherhood to be with a ghoul, but… well, they had more important things to worry about right now.

The least he could do was make sure it never happened again, though.

“Go back to the Prydwen, Angie,” he ordered, using her first name to accentuate his point – he rarely ever used first names. “If I catch you or hear about you going to see that _thing_ again, I’ll drag you to the Elder myself. Do you understand me?”

She nodded her head quickly. “Yes, Paladin Danse. I understand.”

“Go. Get out.”

As soon as she was gone, nearly stumbling over herself as she fled, Kira was laughing. _Laughing._ “Wow, Danse. Just wow. I can’t believe all of this for some ghoul.

He shot her an irritated look.

“Oh, and it seems you know this Hancock? I need details and, honestly, I know it’s against Brotherhood protocol to have a relationship with them but, come on, he can’t be _that_ bad.”

The look he gave her intensified tenfold.

“I mean, she was trying to sneak out to go see him, so he must be worth the trouble.”

“Hancock is not _pleasant,”_ he growled through gritted teeth, remembering the fight he’d gotten into with the ghoul, only to end up with a split lip after Nora had punched them both. “But right now, we have more important things to do.”

It was clear he wasn’t thrilled with her nonchalant dismissal of someone disobeying the codex and violating the laws of the Brotherhood, but he couldn’t really address that at the moment; and the fact she’d stopped laughing must have meant she realized he wasn’t very impressed with her reaction to the situation.

“You’re right, we need to get to the bottom of this,” she said quietly.

“Come on. Let’s get going,” he mumbled, leading her out of the room.

Admittedly, he felt slightly bad about accusing Scribe Davis of being the perpetrator. If all she was doing was going on a date – granted, she was going on a date with an _abomination_ – then she didn’t deserve everything he and Kira had said and done to her; they’d acted rashly and harshly, but who could blame them? Tension was high after what had happened; then again, they were paladins and were trained to keep calm in stressful situations, so were they really allowed to use that excuse?

He started leading them back to where they’d left their sets of power armor, traveling alongside the airport’s main building now. It’d grown even darker outside but the lights the Brotherhood had installed didn’t reach the specific area they were moving through, so they were careful as they traversed through the shadows; however, before they could get very far, something caught Danse’s attention – a voice nearby, coming from a small, exterior supply room that was connected to the back of the building.

Freezing in his step, he held up a closed fist to signal for Kira to stop, as well, while he listened.

“… went well… ghouls took down a lot… you were right… they never… coming…”

Glancing back at his companion, he silently questioned if she heard the same thing he had before he turned toward the supply room, quietly approaching it; and just as the door flung open, he was met with a face he didn’t expect.

Flubbing at first, his mouth opened and closed as he stared at the woman in front of him who returned the stare but with utter horror.

“Danse, I can explain.”

_”You_ did this?”

“Danse, please. This isn’t what it looks like.”

“You’ve—you’ve been with the Brotherhood since you were a _child._ How could you—” he stopped, fingers clenching the handle on the metal door. “Do you have any idea how many people you’ve gotten killed? How many of your brothers and sisters you’ve needlessly _slaughtered!?”_

“I didn’t—”

He charged her, grabbing her arm and pushing her further into the room. “What did you _do!?”_ he snarled.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Don’t lie! I _heard_ you! We _both_ heard you!”

It was then she finally took notice of Kira, not having seen the other paladin before since Danse’s bulk was taking up the entire doorway. Her jaw tightened as she stared up at the tall paladin before her, seemingly unsure of what to say, but he knew they had the right person this time – there was no doubt about it. And when she didn’t answer, that only solidified it all.

“Guerrero, find something to tie her up with,” he ordered without taking his eyes off the woman before him.

Kira wasted no time finding rope within the supply room. “Want me to tie her up?”

“Please,” he confirmed, moving over to a group of folding chairs that were leaned against the wall and grabbing one, then opening it up and setting it on the ground and sliding it toward Kira. “We need some answers.”

“Look, there’s been a mistake,” the woman tried again. “This isn’t what you think.”

But Guerrero wasn’t having any of it as she grabbed the woman and shoved her into the chair, beginning to tie her up. “Honestly, I don’t care what you say or what excuses you have. From what I heard, you’re guilty.” Once she finished, she moved back to Danse. “She’s all yours.”

He rubbed at his beard, fingers running over the scruff as he thought of how to proceed. He knew what he’d heard – knew this woman was guilty of releasing the ghouls. Did he handle this differently than he had with Davis and go straight to his superiors since he was absolutely certain now? Or did he still try to get some answers out of her? And if he tried to get answers, _how,_ exactly, did he get them?

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, moving over to the ham radio that had been set up in the supply closet. They’d discovered the small spot when they took over the airport, but the radio hadn’t been present before, so someone had to set it up afterward.

“No one.”

It was sudden – her entire demeanor changed. Rather than trying to defend herself by saying it wasn’t what it looked like, she, instead, shut down; her tone was bland, and she sounded almost _disinterested,_ like she knew she wasn’t able to talk her way out of it now.

“Don’t lie to me, Scribe Miller,” he hissed, turning to face her. “I heard you saying something went well and we never saw it coming. You weren’t just in here talking to yourself, so _who,_ exactly, were you talking to?”

“… No one,” she repeated, though this time she hesitated for half a second.

“Miller, do you have any idea how much damage you’ve done? How many soldiers you’ve killed?” Her eyes lifted to him but she didn’t say a word; he suddenly realized the terror in her expression wasn’t directed at him or Kira or whatever punishment he or the Brotherhood might dish out – it was at what might happen to her mission now that she was caught. “Do you know what the Brotherhood does to traitors?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you doing this? Why _did_ you do this?” When she didn’t answer, he ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head in frustration, then moved over to her chair, leaning down so his hands were gripping the back of the seat as he was invading her space, their faces close. “Who are you working for?”

There was still no answer and he knew, at that point, she wasn’t going to give him anything he could work with no matter how many questions he asked. He no longer expected any actual answers since everything she gave him – if she even gave him anything – was short, one-worded, and useless. Still, he kept trying.

“Were you the one who attacked Parker, too?”

While she didn’t speak, a slight twitch at the corner of her lips told him all he needed to know – it was a reaction, no matter how small.

“Was that part of your ‘plan’?” he asked through gritted teeth, though she kept silent again. Cursing beneath his breath, he pushed away from the chair and turned around as he thought over what to do next – but then Miller _hummed_ in thought like she actually had to consider the question.

“No, that was just convenience,” she admitted.

The paladin stood there for a long moment, eyes focused on the wall before him as he gritted his teeth again, tensing and untensing his jaw and inevitably making his migraine worse. It wasn’t often he got this angry but, hell, he was _pissed._

“Guerrero,” he said quietly, clearing his throat after. “I’m going to get Elder Maxson. Think you’re okay to watch her? Or would you rather go, instead?”

Part of him wanted to remain here with the scribe because he wanted to do whatever it took to get answers from her – he wanted to exact his own revenge on her for having killed and injured his brothers and sisters and almost having killed his best friend and her unborn child. But another part of him wanted to leave because he was afraid of what, exactly, he might do – and just how far he might go.

Kira seemed to know him well enough by now, though, that she knew better than to leave him alone, because if he did something horrible, he’d regret it and hate himself. “I’ll gladly watch her,” she agreed.

He nodded. “Keep your eyes open, she may have called for someone to meet her. I shouldn’t be long.” With that, he gave one last glance to Miller before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

══════════════════

The room was silent after Danse left and it took a few moments before Kira turned to face Miller, looking the smaller woman over; she couldn’t decide if she wanted to beat her ass or just remain where she was and let the scribe suffer in suspense.

But she couldn’t contain herself.

“I can’t believe you betrayed the Brotherhood,” the paladin hissed. “What have we done for you to go so far and do what you did!?” But when the other woman didn’t say a word and just _stared at her,_ Kira felt her temper flare – again – and rushed forward, ending up directly in front of the scribe; she grabbed Miller by her shirt and raised her fist. _”Say something!”_

Flinching only slightly and just briefly, the bound woman continued to stare up at the paladin with a blank face, seeming to try not to give Kira what she wanted – at least that was the case until she opened her mouth. “What are you gonna do? Hit me?” she taunted. “Break your precious protocol and make Danse even angrier? You don’t know a damn thing about any of this – any of what’s been happening.”

Alright, so Kira _knew_ what she was about to do was wrong and, in a way, she knew she shouldn’t do it – but, well, fuck it.

“I never follow protocol, bitch,” the paladin snarled just as her fist was thrust forward and connected with the other woman’s face, the action followed up with a satisfying _crunch_ that filled the room.

The scribe never saw it coming, surprisingly.

Miller’s head snapped back with the punch, her nose breaking as Kira’s fist connected with it and she yelped out in pain, her hands attempting to raise to block any other strikes that might come at her, but with her arms tied up, the attempt was futile. Blood began pouring from her nose as the surrounding area started to swell, and there was no doubt she was seeing stars.

And, oh, it felt _amazing_ – and she so badly wanted to punch the bitch again, but she knew if she continued that there’d be no stopping her.

“You—you fucking _punched_ me!” she exclaimed in a mixture of disbelief and anger as if she was trying to convince herself that it actually happened. “Are you fucking _serious!?_ What the fuck is _wrong_ with you!?”

Kira couldn’t help but laugh – the scribe’s reaction was priceless; certainly a memory for the ages. “You really thought I wasn’t gonna hit you?” she asked, stepping a little closer; Miller shrunk back into her chair a bit. “You’re just lucky I don’t do it again because, honestly, that felt pretty damn good.”

Scrunching up her face again, the scribe just stared up at her. “Danse isn’t going to be happy,” she muttered; her voice was already beginning to sound nasally and slurred because of her broken nose.

He wasn’t going to be happy – Kira knew that – but she’d deal with it later. A little sweet talking and teasing and maybe some time alone in his quarters would get him in a better mood, and he’d forget all about her little mishap. Well, mostly. Maybe.

“Yeah, well, that ain’t nothing new,” the paladin said with a shrug.

They fell quiet again, Miller likely not wanting to antagonize Kira into hitting her another time, and that was just fine.

══════════════════

It didn’t take long for Danse to return with Arthur and Nora, the paladin entering the storage room first. “Guerrero?” he called out as soon as he opened the door – but the moment his eyes landed on Miller, seeing her nose twisted and turned with bruising and swelling around it, some dried blood above her top lip but most of the blood around her nose and mouth still wet, his brows raised. “What—what the? Guerrero, what the hell happened?”

Kira immediately moved over to him when he entered, but as soon as he asked what had happened, she put on an innocent face. “Look, I know it looks bad – okay, _really_ bad – but I couldn’t help myself. She just… really pissed me off.” Glancing back at Miller, it kind of sank in just how hard she’d hit the scribe – but, hell, the bitch _deserved_ it.

He pursed his lips as he looked over the woman’s face, assessing the damage from a distance. “You realize we’re going to talk about this later, correct? This isn’t the way a soldier – let alone a _paladin_ – should act.”

“What are you gonna do, Danse? Punish me?” she asked, her voice having dropped to a low tone.

Oh, god.

His face flushed tato red and he refused to look at her, his eyes, instead, staring at the wall across the room; he cleared his throat. “Not, ah… not—not here, Guerrero,” he whispered.

══════════════════

Before entering the storage room, Nora had started to panic, unsure if she wanted to step inside and face whoever it was who had struck her and almost killed her and her baby. Arthur took a few moments to calm her down, helping her relax and getting her breathing under control; and it didn’t take long before she was fine and able to follow him inside – but the moment she set her sights on the scribe who was currently tied to a chair in the center of the storage room, everything changed.

She went from panic to anxiety to _rage._

It all came back at once.

_When she opened the bulkhead, Max sprinted out and ran straight into Danse’s room, slipping through the open door with a slight hiss._

_”Max, what the hell?” she grumbled, but let the kitten go. He was probably scared shitless because of all the commotion, so if he found comfort in the paladin’s quarters, then so be it. He and Danse had been bonding lately, strangely enough, despite how Danse also conveniently ‘hated cats,’ though that was clearly not the case._

_Nora sighed, realizing not even her **cat** wanted to be with her – how fucking useless was she if she couldn’t even comfort the goddamn cat? – as she moved into the room, shutting the door behind her._

_A sudden and sharp pain blossomed across her face as her body was sent back against the door, the back of her head banging into the metal bulkhead while something struck her in the face again and again and again. The vaultie managed to block it with her hands after the fifth hit, shoving the person away as her eyes opened – everything was **blurry** and she was seeing fucking **stars** while pain was just radiating all over her face and head, and she could only stumble forward a bit, then slightly to the side._

_”What—” she started, but something connected straight-on with her face again – a foot? – and sent her toppling backward._

_”Dumb bitch,” the person growled, their voice distorted to her ears while the words were muffled; it felt like her head was stuffed with cotton – did cotton even exist anymore? – there was just so much **throbbing.** “Just because you’re his new fuck toy doesn’t mean you’re safe.”_

_A foot was suddenly atop her stomach, lightly pressing._

_”No,” the vaultie croaked, her hands trying to latch onto the offender’s ankle, but her aim and depth perception were off, so she missed at first. “Please don’t.”_

_But the foot was gone almost immediately. “No, I’m not **that** much of a monster,” they said. Nora stared up at them with blurry vision, her eyes unable to focus through the throbbing in her head; but when the person crouched down, she was able to make out some of the features of their face – and it was then she saw who it was. “Consider yourself lucky that I don’t just kill you here and now – but we’ll let nature decide if you live.”_

_Another strike was made to her face and everything went black._

Nora only saw red. _”You!”_ the vaultie snarled. “You _bitch!”_

══════════════════

Confusion washed over Arthur’s face as he stared at the scribe before him, disbelief in his tone as he spoke. “… Beth? You did this? You did… all of this?”

“I did what I had to do.”

“For _what!?”_ Nora hissed. “Payback that I stole him from you!? That you no longer get to fuck him!?” She was rushing beside him before he even realized it, trying to push past him to get to Beth – but he was quicker, managing to grab Nora around her torso to keep her from going any further. He knew she’d try to hurt the scribe more than what had already been done to her, but he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet, at least. They needed information first.

“Oh, no, honey,” Miller said, her voice low and mocking. “He’s good in bed but he’s not worth _that_ much trouble. But… you walking in on me was mere convenience – and _that_ was payback for your cheap shots in the mess after you found out he cheated on you.”

The vault dweller lunged again, but Arthur kept his hold. “I’ll fucking kill you,” she hissed.

Beth just smiled, taunting, knowing she was safe – for now. “I’m sure.”

“That’s enough,” Arthur interjected, pulling Nora back and turning away from the scribe; the last thing they needed was for his vault dweller to get too worked up and go into another panic attack. Hell, all the stress she was dealing with certainly wasn’t good for the baby.

He dragged her out of the storage room, shutting the door behind him, and then turned them around, spinning her so she was facing him to where her body was pinned between his and the wall. While his eyes remained on hers, she wasn’t looking at him, but instead her gaze was staring off to the side while she breathed heavily through her nose, nostrils flaring in anger.

“Eyes on me,” he snapped, and Nora immediately turned her attention to him, meeting his stare. One of his hands gently cupped her jaw and he brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone, his other hand on her hip. “I need you to breathe, love. Take slow, deep breaths.” She struggled with it at first, but when she finally managed to get her breathing under control, Arthur nodded in approval. “Good girl. Now, listen closely, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I will make sure she pays for what she’s done – not just to the Brotherhood as a whole, but to _you._ She won’t get away with this, Nora. I promise.”

“I want to kill her,” she said quietly.

“No.”

“Then I want _you_ to kill her, and I want it to _hurt.”_

Maxson studied her face for a long moment before sighing, leaning down to kiss her hair before gently pressing their foreheads together, his eyes closing. He’d decided – no, not even _decided_ so much as _realized_ – a while ago that he’d do anything for Nora; that he’d level the entire fucking Commonwealth for her if that was what she asked of him… would killing someone in his own ranks really be any different?

Both hands were cupping her face now and he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze; tears were streaming down her cheeks as she stared up at him, her brow furrowed while she waited for his answer, the expression on her face pleading – an expression he was able to read. At this point, he knew there was only one answer she would accept, because if he didn’t kill Beth, then she’d find a way to do it herself – and he couldn’t really blame her, either, not after she could have lost her child again.

“Please do this for me, Arthur.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, nodding his head. “I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her for you.”


	81. Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I suggest, in order to make this as easy as possible on yourself, you answer my questions honestly so we can get this over with quickly. Despite what Parker wants, I will not elongate this process any more than necessary, but how long this takes depends on you and you alone. Do I make myself clear?”
> 
> “Yes,” she whispered.
> 
> “Very good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh this might have gotten a bit creepy???
> 
> CW: mild torture, gore

Only four of them – well, five, including Beth herself – knew the scribe had set the ghouls loose to wreak havoc on the reinforcements at the airport, which meant Arthur could technically get away with killing her without even making anyone bat an eye in suspicion so long as her name was added to the long list of deceased while her holotags were collected and catalogued over the next few days.

Really, he had no qualms about killing her, either; it wasn’t like he had any attachments to the woman. She’d been his sub in the past, sure, but he’d never grown attached to any of his past subs, so killing Beth wasn’t something that would haunt him – the only thing that bothered him even the slightest was killing someone under his own command. Then again, she was a traitor, and at this point her death was inevitable regardless of if he did it now or if he did it in front of the Elder Council back in the Capital Wasteland as punishment for her crimes.

She wouldn’t make it that far.

He’d stayed outside the storage room with Nora for a few more minutes, ensuring not only that she was calm, but that _he_ was calm, as well, and had the situation collected after he’d run it all through his head and knew what to do. And when he was certain of his plan, he led them back inside to where Danse and Kira were waiting, still keeping an eye on Beth.

“Danse,” Arthur started; his officer stood at attention, “I want you and Guerrero to take Nora back to the Prydwen—”

_”No!”_

The protest came from behind him and as soon as he turned to face his vault dweller, he saw the unhappy look on her face.

“I’m _staying!”_ she announced.

“No, you’re not,” he growled, fully turning to face her now.

“You’re not making me leave, Arthur.”

“Do not fight me on this,” he warned. “If you want me to do this, then you will obey my orders. Is that clear?”

Nora grew quiet, her jaw setting as she glared up at him from a few feet away; her hand absently went to her stomach before she glanced to Beth, then back at him. He hadn’t used his Dom voice yet, and he didn’t want to – not now, not here, not in this situation – but he would if she kept pushing it, and she knew that, which was why she paused.

Thankfully, though, she conceded, releasing an irritated huff through her nose before ducking her head. “Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.

“Good.” With that, he turned back to Danse. “Take Nora back to the Prydwen and stay with her at all times until I return. I don’t want her to leave your sight, do you understand?”

“Of course,” the paladin replied.

“Have her get me some clean clothes and then have Kira bring them down here. Other than that, the both of you stay with her—”

“Too scared to let your girlfriend out of your sight, Arthur?” Beth taunted in the background.

“—At all times. I don’t want a repeat of what happened. If I find out that she was injured under your watch…” His eyes glanced back and forth between the two paladins; they didn’t need him to finish the threat. “I don’t know how long this’ll take but I should be up there soon.”

But something caught his attention – Kira making a slight movement from the corner of his eye, her hand moving from her side and up to her stomach as she… gave a thumbs up? When he turned his attention to her, he realized she wasn’t even looking at him but instead _behind_ him while a slight smirk was on her face.

“What are you—” he started to question just as he began to turn around, but that was when his eyes landed on Nora.

The vaultie stood in front of Beth, having snuck over there while Maxson had his back turned, and he could only watch as her closed fist struck the scribe – not in the face, no, but _in the throat._ Nora never had much power behind her strikes – though his left cheek might disagree with the amount of times she’d slapped him – but getting hit in the throat was guaranteed to hurt regardless of how hard it was, and it definitely left Beth coughing and gasping for air.

“God _damnit,_ Nora!” he snarled. Immediately, Arthur was behind his vault dweller, grabbing her around the torso and turning around to pull her away, being sure to keep her legs out of reach of Beth; he’d heard of her fighting techniques during the _last_ time she attacked the scribe. “What the hell did I say!?”

“That was before we left the room. You didn’t say I couldn’t do it now,” she replied innocently, a triumphant look on her face.

“I should swat your ass for that later,” he grumbled; his eyes then turned to Kira, shooting the other woman a hard glare. He’d have to deal with _that_ later, too. “Alright, all three of you, go. Get out,” he said as he put Nora down, nudging her toward the door.

“Arthur, are you sure this is what you want to do?” Danse asked as he and Kira started approaching the exit. The Elder hadn’t explicitly said what his plans were, but it was fairly obvious; and even if it wasn’t, Danse knew him well enough to know just what he’d likely be up to.

“You know the answer to that, Danse. Now, please, take Nora back to the Prydwen and keep her safe until I return.”

With one last kiss to his vault dweller, the three were soon gone, leaving Arthur and Beth alone. He took a few moments to relax himself, moving around the storage room and looking at what items were still inside; the room hadn’t been cleaned out despite the fact they’d found it a while back, which gave him the opportunity to use whatever was left behind to his advantage – but he didn’t really _need_ anything other than what he had on him, did he?

Beth watched him intently as he pulled off his battle coat, setting it off to the side on an empty shelf, tugging off his gloves and placing them on top of it. He then unbuckled and unzipped his flight suit, pulling it down to his hips and tying the arms off to keep it from going any lower, which left his upper half in just his white undershirt – which was fine, because the small room was warm and he knew it was bound to get warmer.

“What are you gonna do?”

Beth’s voice was fairly quiet and slightly raspy from having been hit in the throat, and he could hear the worry and fear within it no matter how hard she attempted to mask it. He had his back to her at the moment as he finished tying off his jumpsuit.

“You know the answer to that, Beth,” he replied calmly.

“Arthur—”

“There’s no point in trying to beg or talk your way to freedom.” Turning around, he finally faced her, and he could see the bruising on her face was still spreading; her nose was twisted in all the wrong places, swollen and bloody and bruised. “You know what I am capable of, correct?”

She swallowed hard but nodded her head.

“Speak your answer,” he ordered.

“Yes.”

“Then you know what I can and likely will do to you, yes?”

“Y-yes.”

Slowly, Arthur started approaching her – prowling, like a predator stalking his prey, ready to pounce. “Good. Then I suggest, in order to make this as easy as possible on yourself, you answer my questions honestly so we can get this over with quickly. Despite what Parker wants, I will not elongate this process any more than necessary, but how long this takes depends on you and you alone. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Very good.”

It was at that point, however, the Elder realized he’d switched himself off – all the progress he’d made over the past handful of months with talking things out, with understanding his emotions, with _expressing them,_ was just… switched off like a light. It was all shoved deep down, somewhere he knew he couldn’t have them or feel them if he wanted to get through what he needed to do right now. And while that was fine for the time being as it would surely get him better results when dealing with Beth, it was likely going to have repercussions later – but how bad would those repercussions be? And not just for him, but for Nora?

He couldn’t think about that now, though.

Maxson crouched down in front of Beth, meeting her at eye level, and silently held her gaze for a few long moments before finally speaking. “Who are you working for?”

“You know, I have to admit, I like the short beard. Makes you look your age, shows off your strong jaw.”

He released a long, slow sigh of annoyance. She’d been scared moments ago but was now toying with him. “Are you sure you want to go down this route?”

“Oh, you remember the _last_ time you had me tied to a chair?” she asked rather than answering his question, a wide grin crossing her face; there was blood on her teeth and it looked like it was painful for her to even smile, let alone grin, but she managed it. “Maybe we could repeat that. What do you think?”

The scribe’s legs spread wide, taunting him and reminding him of one of the times they’d fucked when she was his sub – he’d tied her to a chair and ate her out, making her beg him to stop because she was being overstimulated. But if she thought that was going to work here, she was sadly mistaken.

Quickly, Arthur grabbed the front legs of the chair, abruptly yanking them up and forward so she was sent backward, landing on her hands and forearms as they were tied to the back of the folding chair; Beth screamed in a cocktail of surprise and pain as she landed on her limbs, but he didn’t stop there. Getting to his feet, Maxson moved over her, placing one foot on one of the back legs of the chair to hold it still and the other on the bottom of the edge of the seat and then started _pushing_ it closed, forcing her body to curl in on itself. Of course, she tried to push out against it, uncurling herself in an attempt to keep it from squishing her, but he had much better leverage and was much stronger than her; and considering her legs had been spread open enough to where they were now on the outside of the seat, being forced open even wider… well, there wasn’t much for her to push with because the seat was still between them.

“Stop, stop, stop!” she shrieked, her body thrashing in the chair as he kept adding a bit more weight onto it.

“I’m not here to play games. You killed a lot of soldiers by letting those ghouls loose and you almost killed my girlfriend and my _unborn child._ If you think for even _one second,“_ he accentuated his point by roughly pushing the chair seat closed against her even more, making her cry out, “That I’m going to let you fuck around instead of telling me what I want to know, then you’re mistaken.”

“Arthur, please!”

Leaning down, the Elder rested one elbow on his knee, putting even more of his weight on the chair. “I’m a patient man, Beth. You know that. But do you really want to see what happens when my patience runs out?”

“N-no! I’ll talk!”

“Good.” Stepping back, he released his weight off the chair and instead moved beside her to pull her back up, setting her upright again. Beth closed her legs and leaned over as much as she could, whimpering from the pain of the metal having just pushed roughly against the inside of her thighs, forcing them to spread wider than she was comfortable – straining her muscles but also having pressed into her bones.

“Now, who do you work for?”

“The—the Institute.”

She didn’t expect the hand on her throat, forcing her head back to where she had to look at him again, her eyes wide as he glared down at her. “I’m only going to warn you once. Don’t lie to me. _Who_ do you work for?” he repeated.

“Fuck! The Railroad!”

Arthur went quiet for a few seconds as he searched her face, the fear in it plain as day – she’d put up a front when the others were in the room, but she seemed unable to do that any longer, at least not with him. Then again, she could still be doing that but in a different way. Still, as she stared back up at him, he was satisfied with her answer. There were no other factions he was aware of that would have done something like this; and, in all honesty, he suspected it was the Railroad because of that. The Minutemen wouldn’t have betrayed Nora, and, for some damn reason, he believed Shaun when the old man had said the Institute wasn’t part of it.

Which left only one other faction.

“Good,” he praised before stepping back, releasing her throat; Beth gasped for air though he hadn’t even choked her. “Are they planning any other attacks?”

“I don’t—I don’t think so. Not that I’m aware of.”

“Are you _sure_ about that?” he asked, his hand grabbing her hair this time, pulling her head back roughly again.

Beth groaned but nodded her head as much as she could. “I’m sure.”

“Were you the one who sabotaged Liberty Prime? Based on their orders?” She didn’t answer, so he tugged her hair, twisting his hand so it pulled harder.

 _”Fuck,_ yes, I was, okay?”

She was giving him answers much too easily – but these were all easy questions; simple things he wouldn’t really need to do much prying from her, for the most part. There would soon be other questions she’d need much more convincing to answer, though… and he wasn’t really looking forward to that.

Releasing her hair, Arthur slowly stepped around her. “How long have you been working for them?”

“I don’t—”

“It’s a simple question, Beth. Months? Years?” he asked, crouching down behind her.

“… A while,” she answered, her head turning from side-to-side as she tried to see what he was doing.

“That means nothing to me. How long is ‘a while’?”

“Please, Arthur—”

“You do not want me to force this out of you, Beth,” he warned as he took ahold of one of her fingers; she released a sob. “How long is ‘a while’?” he repeated.

“Since—since before we left the Capital Wasteland, okay!?”

Really, it was a relief she answered – while he had no problem killing her, he certainly took issue with _torture._ Regardless of what she deserved, the thought of torturing someone wasn’t something that settled right with him, and he was just glad his scare tactics worked as he suspected they would.

She knew him, but she didn’t know him _well._

Standing, Arthur circled her again, meeting her gaze as she looked up at him with pleading eyes, their glassy color begging him to let her go; but he’d never do such a thing. “What information did you give them?” he asked.

“I—I took what was on your terminal and what was on Cade and Quinlan’s terminal. That’s it.”

The Elder cursed beneath his breath, shaking his head. If the Railroad had what was on all three terminals, that wasn’t good – especially Cade and Quinlan’s. His own mostly held internal messages, fortunately, though they were still classified. But Cade’s contained medical records of every soldier aboard his ship while Quinlan’s kept detailed records of each soldier and each piece of recovered technology and documentation.

But if they didn’t get to Ingram’s terminal…

Maxson paced back and forth a bit, thinking, debating on how to proceed. Whatever information the Railroad had on them would need to be dealt with, as well as how to protect themselves from this sort of thing in the future – physically and technology-wise – but he needed more from Beth for now. She had to know more.

Turning back to face her, he saw how her eyes were on the ground; she looked woozy. “Who is the leader of the Railroad?” he asked.

“Some—some woman. I don’t know her name, never met her. Just… talked with a bunch of different guys every time. Never gave me their names.”

“Do you know where the Railroad is based?”

“No.”

“Fucking useless,” he snarled; Beth winced at his words and tone. Turning away, he ran a hand through his hair before he scratched his dull nails at his beard; he was growing frustrated, but it had become apparent she knew nothing else of value. “Then there’s no reason to keep you alive any longer.”

When he turned back to face her, Beth’s eyes were wide, pleading with him again, and he knew she was about to start begging for her life – but she should have known better. Begging didn’t work with him. Lifting his leg, Arthur reached into his boot and pulled out the blade he kept in it, and the scribe’s eyes followed the sharp edge as it was revealed.

“Arthur, please.”

“Don’t beg me, you know I don’t feel sympathy.” Slowly, he approached her, watching tears stream down her face while she cowered back into her chair.

“Please. I—I know she’s made you feel things now. You’re not—you’re not like you were before. Everyone’s noticed it. You’re—you’re different.”

He was directly in front of her now and could see how she was trembling, terrified of her life being taken. Perhaps she’d never expected to be caught or had thought she’d escape the Brotherhood before anyone ever found out it was her – she was naïve to ever think anything along those lines, if that was the case. The Railroad helped _synths,_ not humans; they would have left her to die by the ghouls she released after she did their bidding and she didn’t even realize it.

“I am different, yes. I have changed. But here’s the thing, Beth,” he started, his free hand grabbing her hair and tugging her head all the way back as he stepped above her, his legs on either side of her thighs while he leaned forward so their faces were close, “The moment I walked back into this room, I switched all that back off.”

The scribe’s face scrunched up as tears streamed down her temples and disappeared into her hair. “Please, Arthur. I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this.”

“Quiet,” he ordered. “I may feel things now but the one thing I have not and never will feel is sympathy – especially not for people like you.” The sharp edge of the blade was pressed to her throat and she gasped, her eyes tightly closing despite how painful it most likely was because of her broken nose. “No, no. You look at me.” She shook her head. “Eyes on me. Now.” When her eyes opened, she choked out a sob. “Good girl,” he praised.

The tip of the blade was dragged along her pulse point, slow and threatening. “I want to see your eyes as you die, and I want to be the last thing you see just as it all fades to black. I want you to know that I’m not doing this for the Brotherhood – I’m doing it for Nora. You could have had a much easier death if you’d have just left her the fuck alone, but you made the wrong choice, Beth. And now…” His eyes flicked back and forth between hers and the fear in them was _intoxicating;_ it gave him a sick thrill, the predator inside him showing its face again – fuck, it was something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. “Well, now you’re going to pay for it.”

Slowly, the sharp edge of the blade was dragged along her throat from ear-to-ear, allowing the blood to spill out from the wound, pouring like a waterfall. He never released her hair, instead keeping her head tipped back so he could hold her gaze, watching the panic flood her eyes as her life did the opposite from her body. She tried to thrash against her restraints though it did nothing, and blood started seeping from her mouth as she coughed, some of it splattering onto his face, neck, and shirt; but rather than shying away, he just closed his eyes momentarily before reopening them to stare back down at her.

It didn’t take long for the life to fade from her eyes, but it likely _felt_ longer for her, and as soon as she was gone, he gave her face one final lookover before releasing her hair, allowing her head to drop forward so her chin met her chest.

Stepping away, Arthur let out a slow sigh – but whether it was from relief or pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure. He lifted the hem of his shirt, wiping off his face just before there was a knock on the door. Upon opening it, he was greeted by Kira on the other side as she had a set of clothes for him, and he just stepped away from the door, leaving it open.

“Well, I see you did what you had to, Arthur,” the paladin said as she looked over at Beth’s dead body. “Here’s some change of clothes.”

The Elder made a noise of acknowledgement and took the clothes from her, setting them on one of the shelves as he tugged his shirt over his head and started pushing his jumpsuit the rest of the way off, not really caring that Kira was in the room with him; he had his back to her, after all. Besides, there was blood on his clothes, and he needed to change.

“How is Nora?” he asked.

Guerrero kept her attention elsewhere. “She’s really upset, and I don’t blame her but otherwise, she’s fine.”

It didn’t take long for him to finish changing, zipping up his suit as he glanced over at Beth’s dead body before moving to put on his coat and gloves. “Beth wasn’t really as helpful with information as I thought she’d be so this didn’t take as long as I assumed it would. Do you think it’s possible you could move her body with the others? I’ll take care of ensuring her name gets put in the records of those who died by the ghouls.”

The look Kira gave Beth’s body told him she was hesitant to agree, but he wasn’t sure why, though she still did, regardless. “I’ll take it from here, Arthur. Just get back to Nora, she needs you right now.”

Nodding again, he moved to the door, opening it back up to leave – but before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at Kira over his shoulder. “Kira,” he called, but paused before continuing, “I… thank you. For this. For everything. I mean that.”


	82. For Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you kill her?” Nora asked, her voice breathless as she tipped her head back a bit more, baring her throat to him. One of her hands went to the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin while her other arm remained draped over his shoulders.
> 
> “Yeah,” he answered against her throat. “I killed her.”
> 
> “Fuck, Arthur,” she whispered.

It was just her and Danse at the moment, sitting in his quarters on the bed; his back was against the headboard while she was between his legs, her head against his chest. He had his arms around her as he held her close in an attempt to comfort her, one hand stroking up and down her back to keep her calm while the other was in her hair, fingers running through the red locks. She wasn’t panicking, not really, but the anxiety of being away from Arthur while knowing he was down at the airport with Beth was certainly getting to her.

It wasn’t that she thought he’d fuck Beth again – she knew he wouldn’t, especially after what was found out – but it was that she was _worried_ about him. She wanted Beth dead and she wanted to kill the bitch herself, but Arthur wouldn’t let her, so she’d asked him to do it, instead – but the reality of asking him to do that only hit her once she’d arrived back on the Prydwen.

She realized she didn’t know what it might do to _him._

Every time she heard someone outside Danse’s room, she perked up, turning her head and waiting to identify the footsteps as the Elder’s or to hear her name being called – but it always ended in disappointment, her head just returning to rest back against Danse’s chest as she sighed. Kira had been gone for about ten minutes now and was expected back soon, so maybe she would give them an update on how things were going and if Arthur was okay—

_”Parker.”_

With the sound of her last name called from the hallway, Nora perked up again, and her paladin’s arms unwrapped from around her as she immediately scrambled off the bed and to the doorway. Arthur stood in front of their room, his eyes locking with hers – she felt her chest ache.

“Come,” he ordered just as he stepped inside.

Something was wrong.

Obeying, the vaultie followed him inside as he held the door open and then shut and locked it behind her, but before she was able to react to anything – before she was able to question if he was alright – a hand was wrapped around her throat and yanking her toward him, their lips roughly crashing together. Nora gasped at the suddenness of it but eagerly returned the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she jumped up, her legs going around his hips and ankles crossing just above his ass. Arthur instinctively reacted by hooking his hands beneath her thighs to hold her up, his fingers digging in through her pants.

The Elder turned their bodies and slammed her back against the bulkhead, pinning her between his weight and the metal door – she hissed against his lips from the sharp pain that was sent into her spine, though punished him for it by biting his bottom lip and tugging, coaxing a low groan from his chest.

When she released him from her bite, he was at her throat, forcing her head to tip back as he bit and kissed at her skin, his hips grinding against her; fuck, he was already hard.

But it was then another reality hit her: he’d done all of this for her.

_For her._

Fuck.

“Did you kill her?” Nora asked, her voice breathless as she tipped her head back a bit more, baring her throat to him. One of her hands went to the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin while her other arm remained draped over his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he answered against her throat. “I killed her.”

“Fuck, Arthur,” she whispered before sliding her hand up from his neck to his hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking his head back; the look on his face was one of irritation but she didn’t give him time to berate her, instead crashing their lips together again in another rough kiss as she released her hold.

It was obvious something was different with him, though – she wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it was _something._ He was detached, maybe; not himself, or at least not his _current_ self. And while she wasn’t entirely sure what that meant for him or even for them, she knew she’d do whatever necessary to ensure he was alright.

“What do you need?” she asked against his lips.

Maxson paused for a split second and then shook his head, his lips dropping to her neck to place a few more kisses before he clamped his teeth down on the column of her throat; Nora couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her, the sharp pain mixing with pleasure at not just the feeling but also the knowledge that he was marking her as his own.

“Arthur,” she groaned, returning her hand to his hair to tightly grab ahold of it. “Communicate with me. What do you need?” she asked again. “Do you need me to fight you?”

When he let go of her throat, she sighed from the sudden relief, though there was still a stinging sensation left behind. He lifted his head then, the coarse hairs of his beard dragging along the side of her neck and jaw as he moved his lips close to her ear before speaking in a low, growling tone that made her shudder.

“I need you to shut the fuck up and get on your knees.”

It was clear that was as much of an answer as she’d get from him right now but that was fine – it told her what she needed to know. Still, before she could reply, his hands were off her thighs and instead pushing them from around his hips before he was shoving her onto her feet; she thought he’d force her onto her knees there, as well, but when he grabbed a handful of her hair and stepped back, yanking her forward and downward at the same time, Nora could only yelp at the surge of pain from it.

Fuck.

The vaultie glared up at him but he only gave her a bland look before releasing her hair, shoving her head to the side just slightly as he did and then began undoing the buckle at the collar of his jumpsuit, his eyes leaving her so he could tip his head up.

“Take your shirt and bra off,” he ordered.

“No.”

She watched as he paused, his fingers freezing in their movements just after he’d gotten the buckle undone.

From there, everything happened so quickly that she didn’t even register it until she had his knife to his throat.

Maxson quickly leaned over and moved forward to likely push her onto her back so he could straddle her and rip her clothes off himself, but just as he went to grab her neck, Nora snatched the knife from his boot – she knew he always kept one there – and raised it directly to his throat before he was able to push her back. Arthur immediately froze just as he grabbed her and she heard his breath hitch while confusion washed over his face, their eyes locking.

Nora’s tongue ran over her bottom lip as her free hand went to the open collar of his flight suit, grabbing ahold of it while she flipped the knife around in her other hand before slipping it beneath the fabric; but Arthur grabbed her wrist, holding onto it tightly – a warning, telling her to stop, his mind most likely panicking because she’d taken control of the situation. Rather than stopping, however, she pressed the sharp edge of the blade against the pulled-out part of his suit and sliced it all the way down to his navel, cutting the fabric open. When she pulled the blade away from his body, that was when he finally released her, and the vaultie yanked his cut suit open to reveal his bare chest and stomach since she’d sliced right through his undershirt, as well.

His free hand was in front of her then – the other still on her throat – with his palm up as he waited expectantly, and Nora only glanced down at it before setting the knife into it. Quickly, he tossed it away, letting it clatter onto the floor as it slid beneath his desk and collided with the wall on the other side.

“Don’t ever do that again. Do you understand me?”

The corners of her lips twitched. “Okay.”

“That isn’t how you address me.”

“It is now.”

Narrowing his eyes, the Elder released a slow exhale from his nose before shifting his hand from her throat to her hair and quickly standing up straight, dragging her with him. Nora whined as he tugged her and she grabbed onto his wrist, pushing her head closer to his hand to try to lessen the pain, but as she was focusing on that, his other hand was pushing his cut suit down his shoulder and to his hip – just enough that his cock was freed and now shoved in her face, the head pressed against her lips.

“Open your mouth.”

She tightly pressed her lips together. “Mm-mm.”

“Open your mouth, Nora,” he growled, rubbing the length of his shaft against her closed lips.

“Mm-mm,” she refused again, the hand that wasn’t holding his wrist going to his thigh and pushing at him.

But he must have been losing his patience because he released her hair only long enough to push his jumpsuit off his remaining arm before grabbing her head and holding her cheek against his bare thigh – his clothes down to just above his knees – while he curled his arm around the side of her face so he could hold her still, fingers pinching her nose shut. “You’ll open it one way or another or I’ll fucking pry it open.”

At the same time, Maxson rubbed his cock along her lips as she held her breath, trying not to give in – but that was useless because she needed to _breathe_ – though she kept pushing against his thighs as much as she could despite that making no difference. Eventually, though, it became too much and her lips parted so she could inhale, her jaw clenched as she breathed between gritted teeth.

But that was all he needed, it seemed.

Arthur shifted her head a bit before shoving the tip of his cock against her slightly-parted lips, his thumb hooking into her cheek and pulling it out so he could force his dick into the side of her mouth between her closed teeth and cheek. It was a tight fit but as he pushed more in, Nora was forced to open her mouth the rest of the way because she still couldn’t fucking _breathe,_ his cock covering most of what little airway she had gotten – and the second she opened her mouth, he released her nose.

“That’s it, good girl,” he quietly praised as both of his hands went to her head, pulling her directly in front of him so he could thrust into her mouth.

Nora held onto his thighs, her nails digging into his skin as she relaxed her throat and jaw while he started fucking her face. Without warning, though, he pulled her nose flush against his groin, burying his cock in the back of her throat – she wasn’t ready for it and immediately started gagging around him, hands pushing at his thighs again to try and get away despite how he held her head still, forcing her to take him for a few seconds longer before finally pulling all the way out to allow her to breathe.

She coughed a few times and tried to regain herself, but as soon as she did, Arthur was forcing himself back into her mouth, fucking her face again. Saliva dripped down her chin since he hadn’t given her a chance to wipe it away, strings of it sticking to her throat and shirt, as well as his thighs and suit.

With her hands on his thighs, she slid them up to his hips and then to his chest, digging her nails into his skin just beneath his pectorals and dragging down, down, down his body, leaving behind deep scratches that had him groaning and taking sharp, hissing inhales. They made eye contact as she silently demanded his attention since his eyes had been closed moments before – but he just made a low grunt before pulling her face against his groin again, forcing her to deepthroat him once more.

This time, however, the vaultie was prepared and swallowed around him, nuzzling her face against his groin and coaxing a low moan from him when the muscles in her throat constricted around the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hips still slightly thrusting despite how he was completely buried in her mouth.

When he released her and pulled out to let her breathe, Arthur took that opportunity to grab the back of her shirt and yank it over her head; Nora just lifted her arms to let him, and he tossed it off to the side. He then pulled her forward enough so he could unclasp her bra, tugging it off her shoulders – but rather than throwing that away, too, he kept it in one hand while his other went to her throat, pushing her backward while he moved onto his knees above her – but not before flipping her onto her stomach, allowing him to straddle her ass.

“Ow, what the fuck!?” she hissed.

“Quiet,” he snarled, grabbing one of her arms and pinning it against her lower back, then doing the same to the other before using her bra to tie her hands. When he seemed satisfied with how they were bound, he shifted down her body and reached beneath her, undoing her jeans and yanking them and her underwear down her hips and legs, leaving her bare for him.

Nora glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Great, now I’m tied up and naked. Happy?”

“No,” the Elder mumbled before standing up and getting off her.

One of his feet was lifted onto the bed and he started unlacing his boots, but just as he was pulling the first one off, Nora quickly got to her feet. Okay, not _quickly,_ but he was distracted with yanking his boot off, so she had enough time. But rather than chasing after her, he just glanced over and made an irritated noise before unlacing his other boot, removing it and setting it to the side with the first one, then finished taking the rest of his clothes off, leaving himself naked.

By the time he turned to face her, Nora was on the other side of the table, wiggling her wrists against her binds to try and free herself.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked as he slowly approached.

“Oh, you know. Just some stuff,” she casually said. Her bra wasn’t the best thing to tie her hands with – she could already feel her wrists slipping free.

“You should be obedient and come back over here,” Maxson growled as he was beginning to round the table.

“Obedient? Weren’t you the one who said I wasn’t _ever_ going to be obedient?” She was moving in the opposite direction.

“I can change that, you know. Do you want me to smack your ass for every second you’re not at my feet?”

Nora grinned. “Pretty sure you also said spanking me didn’t work anymore.”

The Elder hummed – but before she knew it, he was atop the table, having stepped on a chair that was pulled out and was now walking across it and straight toward her. The vaultie squeaked in surprise and ducked down, darting under it to hide, but he didn’t immediately jump down after her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins at the sudden change where she truly became his prey as he stalked her from above, and she kept looking around to see where he might come down from – but he didn’t. He just stayed atop the table.

That was terrifying in and of itself.

“Do you think spanking you doesn’t work when your ass is wet?” he asked from atop the table; she couldn’t tell which side he was on.

“I think that’s a bit unfair, if I’m being honest,” she replied, still trying to get her wrists free – and after a few more seconds, they finally came out of the binds of her bra; she rubbed at them for a second. “It’s kinda like _cheating._ How would you feel if I spanked _your_ ass while it was wet?”

“You wouldn’t get the chance.”

A wide grin spread across her face. “I dunno, I think I could get away with iii— _iiit!”_

A loud _thud_ came from behind her as Arthur abruptly jumped off the table and onto the floor, crouching down just as he shoved the chair that was against her back away – and then grabbed her around the torso, dragging her out from her hiding spot. Nora kicked her legs as she shrieked from surprise, her hands grasping his forearms, nails digging into his skin.

“Come here, little girl,” he growled as he stood up with her in his arms, holding her high enough that her feet weren’t on the ground. “I’m done playing games.”

“But we just start _ed!”_ Her torso was slammed against the table mid-word and she yelped, just barely managing to catch herself on her forearms.

One of Arthur’s hands was placed in the middle of her back against her spine as he held her down while the other was between her legs, fingers rubbing against her folds for just a few moments before his middle and ring fingers slid into her to the last knuckle. Nora’s body jolted forward just slightly as she raised herself to her tiptoes, a breathy moan escaping her; she was already stretched since they’d fucked not that long ago.

“You know, I think you’re right,” he said as his fingers wiggled inside her, feeling around for that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Nora whined. “I am?”

“Mhm. Spanking doesn’t work with you because you enjoy it too much, and I think spanking you with a wet ass might be a bit too extreme. So, we need to find a middle ground.”

“Mi-middle ground?” she echoed – but the second his fingers found that spot, Nora gasped, her body jolting forward again while her pussy tightened around his fingers.

“Mm, there it is,” he purred. “Yes, a middle ground. But I think you know what I mean when I say that.”

“I don’t—”

She didn’t get a chance to question or say anything else before Arthur was pumping his arm back and forth, his fingers quickly moving in and out after he crooked them to where the pads were rubbing against that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside her. Nora was immediately keening, her nails digging into the table as she tightly closed her eyes, her body tensing; she knew if he kept going like this there was going to be a complete _mess_ everywhere, but, shit, she didn’t even care about it – because every time he made her cum like this, she was always left trembling and panting and _sensitive._

There was a coiling of heat deep in her belly fairly quickly as he kept touching that spot, her legs quivering beneath her and threatening to collapse, though she knew Arthur wouldn’t let that happen – especially with his fingers in her cunt. Still, that coiling was growing tighter and tighter, and she knew she was so close to tipping over the edge.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—”

He pulled his fingers out.

Nora’s eyes grew wide and she gasped. “No, no, no!” she yelped while trying to push herself to stand up, but she only got a couple inches off the table before the hand on her back roughly pushed her back down.

“If you’ve grown used to spanking, then this should be a better way to teach you a lesson, don’t you think?”

“I get it, okay? I understand. I’m sorry,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Hm. Do you?”

_”Yes.”_

Those same two fingers were back inside her, pressing against that spot again as he fucked her on them, his arm quickly pumping back and forth. Arthur had only given her a few moments to let the urge to cum go away, so it didn’t take long before she was ready to cum again, her body trembling as she was keening once more.

And then he pulled his fingers out _again._

“God _damnit,_ Arthur!” the vaultie snarled, trying to stand up again despite still being held down. “I’m gonna slit your fucking _throat.”_

“Quite a threat from someone who can’t even get out of my grasp,” he teased while rubbing his fingers along her folds before lightly slapping the outside of her pussy; Nora whined, and he did it again, coaxing the same reaction. “But that’s okay. Keep threatening me and I’ll just keep denying you. Go ahead. Give me one more reason.”

Nora pursed her lips and huffed through her nose as she glared off to the side, refusing to give him any more ammunition but also hating the fact she was literally giving into him.

Bastard.

“That’s what I thought,” he taunted just before she felt his cock slide into her in one push.

Arthur was immediately pounding against her ass and she couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her while her back arched as much as it could with his hand holding her down. They’d already fucked numerous times today, so him going _again_ was just more evidence of his age and stamina – and it really did seem like the man had unlimited stamina sometimes, like he was just fucking _unstoppable_ when it came to sex.

But that was fine – she was able to keep up with him. Mostly.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck,” Nora mewled, her eyes tightly closing as she pressed her cheek against the table. Her body moved along it with each thrust he made, a creaking sound accompanying them, too. She really missed the old table – the one he’d destroyed. It never made these noises.

A sharp slap was made to her ass cheek before Arthur pulled out and the hand that was in the middle of her back went to her hair, yanking her to stand up straight before he wrapped his arms around her upper body, pulling her roughly against his chest as he picked her up just like he had a few minutes ago. He then carried her to the bed, holding her feet off the ground; and once he got there, he tossed her onto it haphazardly.

Nora rolled onto her back just as he climbed onto the bed on his knees – and she made true on her word to fighting him. Her feet went to his chest to shove him back, but she’d used that move before and Arthur was a quick learner. He grabbed her ankles and shoved them to one side before putting a hand on her hip and rolling her over, then forcing her legs to spread.

“Keep fighting me and you’ll only make it worse for yourself,” he growled. 

Maxson shoved his cock back into her and immediately started thrusting, and all Nora could do was just grab onto the bedsheets as she mewled. The Elder leaned forward then, his hands planting on the mattress on either side of her waist while he thrusted, his hips clapping against her ass and the sound so damn _loud;_ but he was hitting that spot perfectly.

_”Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”_

It wasn’t long before she felt that same coiling of heat deep in her belly, and when he reached a hand beneath her, fingers roughly rubbing at her clit, she was quickly getting sent to the edge. Her cunt tightened around him and her moans grew even louder, one hand clenching the sheets while the other reached forward and grabbed ahold of one of the metal bars on the headboard, though she just sought purchase wherever she could.

“Oh, god, yes. Oh, _fuck,”_ she keened. She was so close—

He pulled his fingers away from her clit and his dick out of her pussy, leaving her pulsing and wanting and on the edge _yet again._

“No, no, no, no!” she growled, her hips grinding in the air as she had to resist the urge to reach down and touch herself; instead, she just held onto the bar and sheets even tighter.

“You did this to yourself, pet. Not me.”

Nora pressed her face into the bed. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep,” she said quietly, her words muffled.

“What was that?”

She lifted her head. “I said I’m sorry and I’ll be good. Just please let me cum.”

“Mm, I’ll think about it,” the Elder replied before pushing his cock back in; Nora moaned again and her back arched – he was immediately back to fucking her roughly, pounding his hips against her ass. But a hand was pressed against the back of her neck, pushing her cheek further into the mattress. “How much do you love taking my cock, hm?”

“So much, baby,” she breathed, hoping her answers would convince him to let her cum. Not that they weren’t true – because they were – but she was so damn _desperate._ “I love your fat cock so much.”

“You ever take anyone as thick as me before?”

The vaultie’s eyebrows furrowed just slightly before she shook her head. “N-no.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he growled just before leaning forward, his chest pressing against her back while his lips were suddenly at her ear as he spoke in a low tone, grinding his hips against her ass in the process. “The way you looked at me when you saw how thick I was gave it all away – all wide-eyed, unsure if I’d fit in your tight cunt. But now, anything smaller isn’t gonna satisfy you, so you’re stuck with me if you want to enjoy sex.”

Nora licked her bottom lip as she turned her head just slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye, feeling his beard tickle the side of her face. If he wanted to play that game, then she’d play. “Well, then it’s a good thing I got you addicted to my pussy, isn’t it? Because you know there’s no one better than me. No one takes you like I do; lets you do everything you want like I do. You’re mine, Arthur Maxson, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

The Elder paused for a moment, remaining still before a low groan bellowed from his chest – she knew he loved it when she got possessive over him, claiming him as her own, telling him he belonged to _her_ and _her only;_ she certainly loved it when he did the same.

Well, mostly.

Without pulling out, Arthur sat up and shifted his legs to where they were on the outside of hers, nudging her thighs closed; he then grabbed onto her arms right above her elbows before pulling them back behind her to use as leverage just as he moved to be on his feet and crouched above her. And with his feet on the outside of her hips and his knees spread wide, it had his cock at a sort of downward angle and hitting that spot _perfectly_ with each thrust.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

Needless to say, the second he was thrusting, Nora was screaming. And not just screaming like regular loud moaning, but _screaming_ his name because he kept hitting that same spot over and over. He was fucking her hard, pulling her into each thrust he made as his hands gripped her tightly, and all she could do was take it while holding onto his shins, nails digging into him again.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuckfuckfuck _fuckfuckfuckyesohfuckyes.”_

 _”Mmmfuck,_ Nora,” Maxson groaned above her, and she felt like she was about to explode – she was already _so fucking close._

But, of course, the second she was ready to tip over the edge, Arthur pulled his hips back so his cock slid out of her.

She could cry.

No, she was definitely going to cry.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and her forehead collided with the mattress. “Baby, _please,”_ she sobbed into the sheets, her voice muffled; her cunt was pulsing, body begging for release. “Please let me cum. I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t think you deserve it,” he panted. “You haven’t exactly been _good,_ Nora. Why should I let you cum if you’ve been a bad girl?”

“I’ve learned my lesson, I promise,” she whined, turning her head so she was no longer speaking into the mattress. ”I’ll be a good girl from now on. I promise. _Please.”_

“You know I don’t believe you, pet. You never follow through with that. I’m starting to think the only way to teach you a _real_ lesson is by denying you release.”

“But—” she started, her brows furrowing as she glanced at him over her shoulder. “For—for how long?”

“Mm.” Arthur shifted his hips back a little, dipping them down so his cock was angled at her entrance and he could push in when he was ready. “Maybe a few days, at least.”

_”No!”_

The Elder shoved back into her then and started fucking her once more, setting that same brutal pace again as his groin smacked against her ass repeatedly. The frustration Nora felt was _intense,_ but she knew she was so fucking close again, ready to cum – _needing to cum_ – and she just hoped that Arthur was only talking and not planning on really denying her for the next few days. He’d never done that before as far as working her up and actually denying her for that long.

But as she grew close again, he pulled out, denying her just like before – and she was nearly crying beneath him in frustration. “Please, baby. _Please._ Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

When he started fucking her again this last time, she could tell he was near his end, his rhythm having been lost and turned into something more frantic as he sought his own release. She could feel that same heat approaching in herself again, as well, and was hoping he’d let her cum along with him, knowing she’d cum so fucking hard and finally find relief.

Arthur was fucking her harder than before and Nora’s moans were growing louder as she screamed his name, her body trembling and ready to fucking _explode_ with an orgasm after being denied so many times.

But he pulled out and abruptly rolled her over, moving to his knees so he was straddling her chest as his hand went to his cock, stroking himself. Nora was taken aback at the refusal to let her cum and just laid there, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open as she panted and stared at him in disbelief; of course, he made eye contact as a heavy exhale puffed his cheeks out before a wide grin crossed his lips, upturning his left cheek more than his right.

When he came on her face, Nora quickly closed her mouth and eyes, feeling his spend getting strung across her cheeks and mouth while he quietly moaned above her. But even as he finished and she opened her eyes, she was still processing what happened – her body fucking _ached_ for relief.

But his cock was soon on her face, the head rubbing along each string of cum before wiping it onto her tongue and repeating the process for each one until he deemed her face clean enough. She swallowed his spend before sucking his cock clean, tasting herself on him – and once he pulled out, she sighed at the feeling of his fingers gently brushing some of her hair from her face.

“Good girl,” he praised.

“Can I—can I cum? Please?” she asked, her voice just a whisper.

Arthur hummed and studied her face for a moment as he seemed to consider the request, but the second that same grin returned to his face, something in her stomach twisted. “Two days.”

“But—but you just _edged_ me. This isn’t even like _last_ time—”

“Two days,” he repeated.

Nora felt her face grow hot with anger. “I swear I’m going to kill you in your sleep—” But she was cut off as he had his hand wrapped around her jaw.

“Do you want to make it three?”

There was a pause. “No, Sir,” she muttered through gritted teeth as she glared at him.

“Good. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of.”

Bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will have a time skip, just fyi. it'll be a decent chunk of time.


	83. Moody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What did you just say?” she snapped.
> 
> “Nothing,” he grumbled as he grabbed his underwear, pulling it on.
> 
> “Don’t _’nothing’_ me, Arthur Maxson. You clearly said something. What was it?”

“Fuckfuck _fuck.”_

Nora clenched the sheets in her hands, her eyes tightly closing as her body jerked forward every half second with each rough thrust made from behind. Arthur was holding onto her hips, fingers digging into her skin, and she was certain there would be bruises—but all she could do was focus on how he was hitting that sensitive spot inside her _just right,_ bringing her close to the edge. And he hadn’t even touched her clit yet.

“Baby,” she breathed, her toes curling. “I’m so close.”

“You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah.”

A sudden _smack_ came down on her ass cheek and she yelped, wincing at the sharp pain and sound as it nearly echoed in the room. Nora turned her head, shooting him a glare. “That fucking _hurt,”_ she growled.

The Elder made a quiet grunt before smoothing his fingers over the area but kept up his thrusting—at least until he leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to tip backward and her back to arch, her hands nearly leaving the bed. She grabbed onto his wrist, trying to lessen the pain, and as she felt his chest pressing against her with his face just above her shoulder and close to her ear, her free hand reached up and grabbed onto the back of his neck, nails digging in.

“Let go,” she snarled, warning him.

“Quiet,” he ordered, snapping his hips against her.

 _”Fuck._ I said fucking _let go,_ Arthur.”

Maxson paused then, his thrusts stopping as he froze in his movements, seeming to assess the situation before he released her hair and placed both hands on the bed on either side of her body, though he didn’t pull out or away and kept his chest against her back. “We have a safe word for a reason, Nora. You can use it even for small things.”

“Yeah,” she grumbled, nudging him a little, but he didn’t move. “Are you going to get off me?”

“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It just hurt. I don’t want you pulling my hair right now or spanking me or whatever, alright?”

“Okay, that’s fine, but you need to tell me these things. I don’t enjoy making you uncomfortable, but I can’t read your mind.”

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Nora huffed in irritation, more so at herself than him. “Yeah, okay,” she conceded. “Can you just eat me out?”

He grunted lightly before sitting up and slowly pulling out. “Sure.”

Shifting onto her back, she was yanked a bit down the bed to where Arthur had lowered himself, her legs pushed apart so he could bury his face between them.

Fuck, he was always so good at this.

His tongue dragged up her folds at first—something he _always_ started with—before his lips closed around her clit, the flat of his tongue lapping at the swollen bundle of nerves. The vaultie gasped, her legs immediately trying to close around his head, but he pushed them open again and pinned both against the mattress as he kept going.

“Fuck,” she breathed, one hand reaching down to thread her fingers into his hair. She leaned up on her other elbow to give herself the opportunity to watch as he worked—at least until she realized that she couldn't actually _see_ him over her belly.

She tried moving onto her hand, but that was just uncomfortable and put a strain on her back with pressure on her stomach that was nearly painful, so when she tried shifting around again, only for it not to do what she wanted, she gave up and whined, flopping down onto her back once more with both hands covering her face.

Arthur pulled away but remained between her legs. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t fucking see.”

He sighed and wiped his beard before moving next to her, one hand cupping her jaw as he ran the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. “Nora, you’re six months pregnant. Of course you can’t see past your stomach.”

“I wasn’t this big when I was pregnant with Shaun,” she whined. “You’ve put a monster in me.”

Their foreheads were pressed together. “Well, it’ll be a cute monster, at least?”

She shot him a glare.

“Mm. Alright, come on, let’s do something different.”

Shifting around again, Arthur laid on his side and pulled her in front of him so her back was against his chest as he was leaned up on his elbow. His top leg bent at the knee so hers hooked over it, and he gently reached between her legs to rub at her clit. But because he was leaned up on his elbow, she was able to see his face, which certainly made her feel better.

The Elder’s hair was flopped over onto one side with how his head was slightly tilted, and she couldn’t help but admire how he looked so damn good regardless of how his hair was set. She reached a hand up to the back of his neck, cupping it, while her hips rolled a little against his fingers, that same coiling heat coming back.

“Arthur,” she whined.

“You’re gonna cum for me like this and then you’re gonna suck my cock. How does that sound, pet?”

Nora nodded her head. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” he purred, and something in her stomach fluttered, nearly sending her over the edge right then and there.

But it was the eye contact that did it—how he always stared at her, urging her to cum with just his gaze. And when she did, she moaned his name, keening the two-syllable word while grinding against his fingers.

“That’s it, good girl,” he quietly praised. “It never takes you long to cum for me, does it?”

He helped her ride it out, and once she finally came down from that post-orgasm high, he was getting off the bed and helping her sit on the edge in front of him. Nora wrapped her hand around his cock, though he was only semi-hard from not having any stimulation there; and after stroking him, he was thick and heavy in her hand. 

A look up to him was made just as she took the head into her mouth, softly sucking just to tease, and feeling how his hips just barely thrust as he released a quiet noise. She soon took more of him in, slowly bobbing her head, and Arthur gently brushed her hair from her face before threading his fingers into the red locks.

“Such a good girl,” he purred; she hummed around him appreciatively at the praise and he groaned in response. “Come on, baby. Suck harder.” When she did, he sucked a breath between his teeth, his free hand sliding down to touch her throat. “Good girl.”

Sliding him out of her mouth, she dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock, straight down from the head to his balls, before sucking one into her mouth and rolling it along her tongue, releasing it with a _pop_ and then giving the other the same treatment all while stroking him. Her free hand was on his hip, nails digging into the skin just as her mouth went to his pelvic muscle, the tip of her tongue dragging along the crease that trailed up to his hip and then back down until she was at his cock again, sliding it back into her mouth and bobbing her head like before.

But he started pushing her head, guiding her a little, and before she could stop him, her nose was shoved against his groin, forcing his cock down her throat. She managed to swallow around him rather than gag, but as soon as she was let off for air, her hand was on his cock and pressing it against his thigh so he couldn’t force it back into her mouth.

“God _damnit,_ Arthur!” she hissed, nearly baring her teeth up at him. “I don’t want you to be rough with me right now!”

He grunted before removing his hands, holding them up with his palms facing her. “Sorry.”

“Why can’t you just fucking listen for once?” she growled.

The look he gave her was… unpleasant, and she could tell he was biting his tongue rather than saying what he wanted to say. But when he stepped away from her and _mumbled something beneath his breath,_ he’d set up the boxing ring.

Fuck. No.

“What did you just say?” she snapped.

“Nothing,” he grumbled as he grabbed his underwear, pulling it on.

“Don’t _’nothing’_ me, Arthur Maxson. You clearly said something. What was it?”

He shot her a look before picking up his flight suit. “I said you’ve never been this moody before.”

Did he just—

Was he _seriously_ —

_”Moody!?”_

“Yes.”

“I’m _pregnant!”_

“And moody.”

Nora’s jaw dropped as she just watched him pull his flight suit over his hips. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

But the Elder paused before turning to look at her, studying her face for a long moment as if he was trying to determine what the right thing to say was. She’d told him to repeat what he said, and he did, but he must have realized that wasn’t actually a good idea _after_ he did it.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it back and out of his face. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. Let me help you get dressed and then we’ll eat lunch.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before conceding, and Arthur grabbed her clothes, helping her pull them on. But when her pants were halfway up her legs, some _other_ emotions set in.

She felt fucking horrible. She’d just yelled at him and demeaned him over _nothing._ Why was she the worst fucking girlfriend?

Ever since they’d established their relationship, things between them were much better—they didn’t fight as much, especially. But that changed as she got further along in her pregnancy. She had trouble controlling her emotions even more than usual, so she was picking fights with him—and everyone, really—over the smallest things, as well as getting upset over even smaller things.

Nora’s face scrunched up as she tried to hold back tears in her eyes, and when Arthur fully stood in front of her, a look of confusion washed over his face.

“What—why are you—what’s wrong?”

“I was super mean to you.”

Maxson heavily sighed before leaning down and resting his forehead atop hers, his eyes closing. “Nora. Baby.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, a choked sob escaping as a few tears slipped over her bottom lids.

“It’s alright, love. Let’s just finish up and eat, okay?”

“Okay.”

###  **♔ ═══════ ♡ ═══════ ♕**

“Keep up.”

“I’m _trying._ Maybe you should _slow down.”_

“You’re the one who wanted an exercise partner, so you need to keep up.”

“When I said exercise, I meant _outside,_ not just walking around the stupid fucking ship.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Maxson, not me. I’m just following orders.”

Huffing, Nora glared at the back of Danse’s head. “I should have just asked Kira. She’d let me go outside.”

“Guerrero is busy, so you’d be stuck with me, either way,” he retorted, glancing back at her.

But she grumbled again, her irritation growing as the Paladin was still walking too far ahead of her on the upper railings. “Damnit, Danse, _slow down!_ I can’t keep up with your long ass legs!”

“Not my fault you’re waddling, Parker.”

Waddling?

_Waddling!?_

Stopping in her tracks, the vaultie pursed her lips and stared straight ahead; it took a second for him to realize she’d stopped following, but when he turned around, he must have noticed how her face turned tato red because he looked almost _apologetic._

“Parker—”

“I’m _waddling,_ Danse,” she croaked.

“Parker, I was only joking—”

“But you’re right! I am waddling! Like—like a stupid, cute, ugly fucking penguin!” There was a confused look on his face. “Oh, my god, you don’t even know what a penguin is. _No one knows what a penguin is!”_ she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Danse sighed and approached her. “Whatever that is, it doesn’t matter. You’re six months pregnant, so of course you’re having trouble walking.”

“That’s what Arthur said about not being able to see him eat me out,” she replied with a sniffle.

Danse’s face crinkled in disgust.

But tears were still in her eyes—fuck, why was she crying? This was fucking _stupid._

“I wasn’t this big when I was pregnant with Shaun and I definitely wasn’t having this much trouble walking at six months. Why is it so bad this time around?” she asked, wiping her nose. There was no way Danse would have an answer for her, she knew that, but asking the question aloud helped her feel a bit better, regardless.

“Why don’t you go see Cade—”

_”No.”_

“Alright… well, how about we go back to the room?”

She sighed, shifting from one foot to the other. “Yeah, okay. Fine.”

With a nod, Danse moved next to her and wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her much smaller body against his side as he started moving. That made it even harder to walk than usual—which was fucking _horrible_ —but she appreciated the comfort and didn’t complain. Besides, they were close to her and Arthur’s room, anyway, so she didn’t have to walk uncomfortably for too long.

Once they reached the door, Danse opened it for her, allowing her to walk in first. She took a seat on the bed, one hand on her belly.

“Anything I can do for you?” the Paladin asked.

“No,” she answered. “Unless you wanna get this stupid monster baby out of me already.”

“I definitely don’t know how to do that.”

“Useless,” she grumbled.

“You’re very moody today.”

Nora glared at him. _”Moody!?”_

God fucking damnit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellloooo! sorry there hasn't been an update in [checks calendar] ten million years. school was busy! but it's out for now, and i've posted up some other fics that i started on, so don't miss out on those!
> 
> so, this is kinda just a filler chapter to get back into the swing of things. however, i want to let everyone know that i am rewriting this fic so it flows better and to have more consistency with time and events, as well as to provide more character development within arthur and nora's personal characters and their relationship. i feel like i could have done more at the beginning, but that was before i had really fleshed them out as characters, so i really want to do that. additionally, there will be inconsistency so long as i have not updated all the chapters, though it should not be too much. my fic _will not_ be posted as a new fic and there shouldn't be too huge of changes, but each chapter will be updated with the new version as i go through them. if a chapter has been rewritten, it will say so at the beginning in the notes with the date. i've done chapters 1-14 already, so go check those out, if you want! 
> 
> as i'm sure you noticed, we did a bit of a time skip. nora is now six months pregnant. i know plenty of you had questions about how the last chapter would impact arthur's emotional state, which will be answered soon, so don't worry. i haven't forgotten. 
> 
> i'm not entirely sure how often i will update this fic with new chapters right now. i want to pump out the rewritten ones as quickly as possible while i have time, so make sure you keep an eye out for any changes made to this fic since you won't be notified. or just wait until i post a new chapter and i'll tell you what chapter(s) has been updated since last time.
> 
> if you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me via discord or whatever. you can find my info in my profile on here.
> 
> now, leave me some comments and tell me how much you missed me.


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